Human
by Jenn0509
Summary: Maia Kinney was thrown into Logan's cell in 1983, but even in his altered mental state he didn't kill her. Sometimes she thinks he should have. It would have been easier, in the end. - With the X-men in 1993, Logan, who barely remembers half his life, is just trying to find a purpose, and to figure out why he's so easily distracted by red hair. (Underaged, feral behavior, OFC, AU)
1. Chapter 1: Human Part 1

This chapter is a flash forward of sorts about a year or two after Logan was rescued in Apocalypse. The next chapter will begin an arc set a year before Logan is rescued.

 **"Maybe I'm foolish, maybe I'm blind**  
 **Thinking I can see through this and see what's behind**  
 **Got no way to prove it, so maybe I'm lying"**

 **(Human- Rag'n'Bone Man)**

* * *

Hank was staring at him, another one of his odd looks on his blue face. Charles grunted to truly get his attention, "What's wrong with you?"

The shriek Hank let loose was viciously reminiscent of him as a teenager, and he slammed his hands on his computer screen. "Some warning!"

Charles frowned at him, "What's troubling you, Hank?"

Hank's eyes shifted nervously about, and, without going too deeply, Charles couldn't ascertain what was wrong with him, "Um…I was restoring a computer drive, one of the ones we got from uh…Stryker's lab."

Charles grimaced at the name, "I didn't think you'd found anything."

Hank's scent turned even more sour and his heart rate spiked even higher, "I got a video, it's still pretty rough, but…it's enough to know way more than I wanted to. I'm not really sure what this is, but…damn, just watch. I need to not be the only one with this in my head. I'm sorry, Charles." He hid his face in his arms as he pressed play.

The black screen popped into picture, and Charles felt like he'd been punched in the gut by an eighteen wheeler. "Jesus Christ." He gasped out, horrified.

It was the room Logan had been held in, with him standing just inside the door as if he'd been shoved in just moments before, but he wasn't alone in the room. There was a female in there with him. Long red hair spilled over her shoulders as she lay on a thin cot, curled in on herself, crumpling the plain blue dress she was wearing.

She shot up from the cot, and glanced towards the camera, revealing her young delicate face before turning her tear stained eyes back to the man who had just entered the room. The man on the tape crossed the room in a blur, pinning her to the wall in one swift motion.

Then Charles realized that the video wasn't silent.

When her back hit the wall, the female screamed and video Logan roared, growling deeply as he shoved her dress up to her hips and pulled his shorts down. She continued making horrible sounds as the creature with Logan's face took the female violently. She pushed against his shoulders and threw her head back against the wall, but the man violating her didn't stop.

"Turn it off." Charles growled at Hank.

Hank shook his head, "No, you need to keep watching."

The male on the screen groaned, thrusting into the female one last time and stilling there. The female, to her credit, pounded her fists on his shoulders and yelled, "You son of a bitch!"

Charles expected her death to follow shortly after, or maiming by his claws. Instead the screen Logan nuzzled into the side of her neck and she slid her hands into his long hair. The girl started talking, kissing the side of his face, "I was so scared they'd hurt you. You okay?"

The male's reply shocked the horrified audience even more. He simply growled, "Mine", before pulling out of her and nipping the side of her neck, and moving down her body. To her stomach.

Charles felt sick, "She's pregnant."

Her condition had somehow been obscured until then, but the swell of her midsection was unmistakable. The man on the video nuzzled the bump, and the female smiled, "We're okay. Baby's just upset that Mommy got a little too anxious, kicked the crap out of me."

The growl he let out then was different from the ones they'd heard before on the video. He pulled her dress up, revealing her stomach, which was mottled with bruises on the right side. He put his hand over the bruises, a furious expression on his face. The woman put one of her hands over his and put the other on his face, "Hey, I'm fine, honest." She giggled shortly, "Better then fine after that greeting." The look he gave her was terribly familiar to Logan, but the woman seemed unfazed, smoothing her dress down, "I swear these look worse then they are."

She grimaced suddenly, grabbing her stomach, "Oh, have to say that greeting probably wasn't the best for my current situation." Logan looked stunned. She laughed again, "Yeah, seems our little bug really didn't like you being gone." She looked genuinely alarmed for the first time, "I don't suppose you know anything about childbirth, do you?" He just looked at her, horrified.

The next few minutes of video were essentially just the female gritting through the early stages of labor, trying to keep the feral mutant calm, babbling incessantly. Then the door to the cell opened again, and the pair both turned to face it, clutching each other. The female let loose her own growl at the sight of a herd of armed guards, "Oh, hell no, you're not taking him again."

But they weren't after Logan. They were after her, yelling at 'Weapon X' to get back or they'd put a bullet in her brain. She fought but was obviously holding back for the sake of her child, and was held by two of the guards in minutes. The guards kept screaming, trying to get her out.

Logan kept fighting. Then he got too close to his female.

The screen went black in the struggle, but the audio kept playing for a few seconds, long enough for an ear piercing female scream, a gunshot, the sound of a body hitting the floor, and Logan's ground shaking roar.

Charles stared at Hank, "Do we know who she is?"

Hank shook his head. "No, without any idea of where she's from or her name…there's really no way to figure out who she is…unless we ask Logan."

Charles rubbed his hands over his head, "We can't do that. He's close to being in a good place, this…knowing he was with a female, knowing…she's dead…that would destroy him."

"So we say nothing, we just keep this to ourselves?" Hank asked, blinking at Charles.

He nodded in reply, "I can hide the knowledge from you, if you'd like, but no one else can know. There's nothing about this that would bring anyone anything but pain. There's nothing we can do now anyway, she's long dead. They both are."


	2. Chapter 2: Famous In A Small Town

Enter Maia! This story is finished, and is already crossposted to AO3 if you are too impatient!

* * *

 **"Every last one, route one, rural heart's got a story to tell**

 **Every grandma, in-law, ex-girlfriend maybe knows it just a little too well**  
 **Whether you're late for church or you're stuck in jail**  
 **Hey, word's gonna get around**  
 **Everybody dies famous in a small town."**

 **(Famous In a Small Town- Miranda Lambert)**

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" Maia screamed, jerking her arms in her captors grips to no avail. She'd never been exceptionally strong, and they were obviously military men. There'd been rumors of a military base outside of town, but she hadn't believed them. Valleyview, Alberta was the last place a military base should have been near. The ice skating rinks of her youth were far from her mind, however. Her mind was on their minds. And their minds were centered on one word: mutant.

For as long as Maia could remember, she'd heard the thoughts of others. First her mother, then her father, then her brothers, then her sister, and then the mental voices of everyone else near her had trickled in. When she had been very young, she'd read the mind of a friend without realizing it, and the other girl had ostracized her almost instantly. After that, Maia had come to the conclusion that no one else needed to know that she could hear their every passing though. Honestly, she could usually ignore the mental ramblings of other people, and had done so most of her life with no issues. No one besides that girl in her childhood had ever accused her of being anything other than perfectly normal. All those years of being careful, of not making eye contact unless absolutely necessary, of being normal, were over in an instant.

She'd been stupid. So, so stupid.

She'd been at prom, in a pretty green dress that flattered her pale red hair, which had been curled and twisted up elaborately by her mother, and she was on the arm of a boy she half-way cared about. Everything had been perfect. Until thoughts that weren't her own came crashing down on her against the barriers she'd established. That usually never happened, not unless she'd made eye contact with the person before, and their thoughts were directed at her, like her mother thinking about calling her children to dinner.

The thoughts she heard outside the auditorium though, were loud and clear. A boy, one she'd never paid much attention to, but had made eye contact with in the second grade, was set on running his truck through the wooden doors of the auditorium with the express purpose of harming as many people as possible. Forgetting herself, Maia had screamed, begged people to move, begged them to save themselves. They'd stopped and stared at her for a moment. In the end, however, they had ignored her, and gone back to making out and drinking spiked punch.

The boy she'd never paid attention to, the one no one had ever paid attention to, had slammed his truck into the auditorium, right into the crowd.

At last count, five of her peers were dead.

How many more of the injured would pass, she would probably never know. Within two hours of the crash, a man in a uniform had herded Maia away from her parents, and before she realized what was going on, he had sedated her.

When she woke up, she'd been stripped and dressed in a grey tank top and loose sweatpants, and was being carried down a hallway by military men, their hands gripping her arms painfully.

She was a mutant. As soon as the news reports had started using the word, she'd know it applied to her too. She had exposed her ability in an effort to save others, and now she was in a military facility being dragged somewhere. It had to be a nightmare.

Then they realized she was awake, "Weapon X is gonna be real happy to see you. Hasn't eaten in a while, and you look pretty enough to eat, even out of that dress."

They were going to feed her to something. Fabulous. Eager to learn more, to better prepare herself for her impending death, she looked up at both of them, catching their eyes for a second, just long enough. That told her a lot more about her nightmare.

It wasn't a nightmare. In her dreams and nightmares, she could never read the minds of others, but she knew these mens' thoughts: One was internally begrudging having to touch her, afraid that her mutated DNA would somehow rub off on him. The other was gleeful both externally and internally about how she was about to get what she deserved for being a mutant.

Vague thoughts of shredded bodies passed through their minds. The pissy one even recalled vomiting over some hunk of meat that had been pulled from Weapon X's room.

Maia heard their voices in her head, like they were speaking in her ear, the crude one was thinking, "Maybe if there's anything left of this bitch, I'll take a turn with her."

Maia did her best to kick him in the crotch as punishment for those thoughts, but ultimately failed. He squeezed her arm hard for that, "Cut that out, you little bitch."

"Quit calling me that!" Maia growled, jerking again.

"Shut up and take it. You might live longer that way!" His tone was mocking, but the thoughts in his head confirmed she wouldn't live long. Whatever they were taking her towards, it was bad, really bad.

They opened a large metal door and threw her in, slamming it shut behind her as she fell face first onto the cold concrete floor.

At first, nothing happened. Maia didn't move, too afraid to draw any more attention to herself. Whatever was in the room hadn't seemed to notice her yet, because she heard nothing with her ears or with her mind. After several minutes, Maia pulled her arms in, tucking them under herself and coming to her knees, ignoring the sharp sting as her bruised legs pressed against the floor.

A few more minutes passed. Or so Maia assumed.

It was hard to tell how much time really had passed, the room was pitch black, and very cold, the only sounds coming from behind her. Fear of whatever they'd been certain was going to eat her ebbed in favor of fear of the temperature and the bare skin of her arms and feet. The solution to both fears seemed to be to pull herself into as tight a ball as possible and hope her thick curtain of red hair hid as much of her as possible.

The relative silence was broken suddenly by the shrill sound of metal on metal, like a door opening, but not the one behind her. Something stepped into the room in front of her, and Maia prepared herself to die.


	3. Chapter 3: The Shake (Awful Feeling)

Maia meets Weapon X

* * *

 **"You say your mind is a terrible thing to waste**

 **What good is mine if I'm locked up in a cage?**  
 **I was hoping you could help me out of here**  
 **So I could finally disappear."**

 **(The Shake (Awful Feeling)- My American Heart)**

* * *

Weapon X woke from sleep aware of several things. One, the hunger that had plagued him for days was still there, and two, there was an absolutely delicious scent wafting through the vents that graciously brought air into his tiny box for him to breathe.

There was a taint to the delicious scent though: fear.

Pain he understood. He felt pain every moment of every day. Fear he didn't understand. There was no room for fear in his tiny world. Fear was weakness, and beings that showed fear usually met his claws. He could hear a heart hammering away outside his cell.

Visions of electric probes and bullets ripping through flesh that almost instantly knitted back together swam in his head. Whoever was stupid enough to wake him up would pay. At least the torture was on a relatively consistent schedule, and this was not one of the usual times. His cell opened slowly, and, with a snick, his claws ripped through his skin, ready to destroy his next victim.

Just outside the cell, he stopped, all the fury leaving him. The delicious scent and the fear came from one and the same. A female form was curled on the floor in front of the room's only exit, a river of red hair that looked unbelievably soft hiding the female's face from him. He stared, trying to make sense of why his captors had tossed a female in his prison with him. Was she here to torture him? If so, why hadn't she started? He took a step forward, his cold feet sticking slightly to the metal floor.

The female gasped suddenly, and her head popped up.

Abruptly they were staring at one another's face, and it was more than he could bear. He'd seen females, killed a few, and wanted to kill several more. They had been grown, though, soldiers or doctors with hardly anything other than scent to differentiate them from their male counterparts. This one, however, was wholly female. She stared at him with big blue eyes, and that damned red hair fell in mesmerizing curls past her bare shoulders. Her skin was different from his own with it's pale color and, even from the distance they were apart, he could imagine it's softness.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The female whispered, holding her hands out in front of her, "I know that's what you think I'm here to do, but I'm not. They sent me in here for you to kill me. Eat me."

He growled deeply at her, and she squeaked like a mouse, jumping back so her backside was pressed against the exit.

The scent of fear was renewed, and she started panting, "Oh, please don't kill me."

There was an unknown urge to get her to stop in a way that didn't involve cutting through the perfect pale flesh with his claws, and he stepped closer.

She gasped again, fixing him with those big eyes that were now glistening with moisture…tears he recognized slowly. She took two deep breaths, and stood. The female was of average height for the females he could recall seeing, but something about her made her seem smaller. She was utterly non-threatening. Or at least that was what he thought until she held a hand out to him, "I'm Maia." He stared at the shaking appendage, unused to an empty one being extended towards him and his reaction not being to hack it off. She trembled all over in fear, but took another deep breath, "You, uh, shake it in one of yours."

The man narrowed his gaze on her hand, and then again on her eyes. He took one shuffling step forward, unsure of what to do, but aware that she seemed to be inviting him closer. The sudden snick as his claws retracted startled her, but she managed not to jump too badly, she just gave another tiny gasp.

He couldn't help the grunt of amusement that escaped him. He was quickly finding he liked those tiny gasps. A new expression found it's way on the female's face, but her hand stayed extended as she spoke, a little more bravely, "Making fun of me is rude. You haven't even shaken my hand yet."

He slid his hand into hers and instantly wished he hadn't. Her fear had abated just enough that it was clear what the delicious scent was. Her. Underneath the skin of his hand, her's was soft, yielding perfectly, her pulse thrumming beneath his touch, making the scent all the more heady.

She breathed deeply, slipping her hand from his grip, "There, that wasn't so bad, was it? If you aren't going to eat me, we might as well be civilized. What's your name?"

His head instantly ached, as it always did when he tried to remember his past. Did he even have a name? He turned away from her, his body swaying slightly.

The female, Maia, reached out and put both hands on his back, "Hey, no, stop! It's okay, you don't need to tell me right now."

He was fixated on it though. What was his name? The pain continued to lance through his head, and eventually it was all he could focus on.

Maia stepped even closer, trying to get her face in front of his, "Please, stop. I can read your mind, and I can tell you're hurting yourself."

He stilled. She could read his mind?

She nodded frantically, "Yes! I mean, it's harder than with most people, but, yeah, I can."

What the fuck was Stryker thinking?

Maia looked puzzled, "Who's Stryker?" When he didn't answer, realization dawned in her eyes, "You can't speak, can you?" He shook his head once, so imperceptibly that she wouldn't have been able to notice if she hadn't been staring him right in the face.

The skin around her mouth was suddenly pulled backwards, her eyes tightening in the corners. "That's okay. You don't eat me, I'll keep you company. Deal?"

She seemed satisfied with his thoughts because the skin around her mouth pulled back farther, "It's called a smile, wild man. You're not going to eat me, so damned right I'm gonna smile." Her heart raced, but the stench of fear was gone, leaving behind the sweet scent of her skin. He liked her smile and the divine way she smelled, Stryker be damned.


	4. Chapter 4: Cinderella

More of their first day together. Also, the chapters get much longer as the story goes on! (There will be 35 chapters total!)

* * *

 **"I don't wanna be like Cinderella**

 **Sittin' in a dark old dusty cellar**  
 **Waiting for somebody to come and set me free**  
 **I don't wanna be like Snow White**  
 **Waiting for a handsome prince to come and save me**  
 **On a horse of white unless we're ridin' side by side**  
 **Don't wanna depend on no one else**  
 **I'd rather rescue myself."**

 **(Cinderella- i5)**

* * *

Maia couldn't have prepared herself for the wave of calm that had come after his agreement to not eat her. It didn't make a damned bit of sense. The man had claws that shot out of the backs of his hands! Metal claws that looked more than capable of producing the horrible things her pissy captors had unintentionally shown her. She had to be crazy. Had to have lost her mind along with her freedom.

He liked her smile though. He'd been recalling it every few minutes for the last hour, moving around the room and growling at her occasionally. He seemed confused by her presence. From the headache she was getting from his scattered thoughts though, she couldn't blame him. Things would be easier if he could talk, but whatever their captors had done to him seemed to have left him incapable of producing speech. She was just lucky he knew English. The few foreigners who didn't speak English or French had always made her head hurt, and he was doing a bang up job without a language barrier augmenting the problem. A Chinese thinking wild man might have made her head literally explode.

Maia dropped to the ground, crossing her legs underneath herself, never once taking her eyes off the man in front of her. His mind was so strange. Usually the minds she heard came to her as streams of speech only she could hear. The nature of hearing inner monologues was that most of the time she heard a whole lot of half-baked sentence fragments. This man, however, was jarringly different.

All she heard was lone words, and only if she really focused. Right now though, she got the sense he was cursing at whoever 'Stryker' was. 'Fuck' and 'Stryker' were pretty much the only words she could glean from his mind. Well…that wasn't exactly true. She was also getting 'red', 'smile', and 'smells' over and over. So he wasn't going to eat her, but he thought she stunk…

"You know, you don't exactly smell like roses." She groused, needing to fill the silence. She didn't do silence well. The thoughts of others were usually drowned out by rock music funneled almost constantly into her ears by her favorite green ear buds and half busted Walkman. What she wouldn't do to have them now. Not hearing him at all might make her head hurt less. She began the painstaking process of blocking her mind from him. It was never a foolproof process, hence the thoughts of the vehicular manslaughterer leaking through, but it should be enough to keep her from being overwhelmed by the cursing and repetition.

It was a terrible idea for Maia to pull herself out of their respective heads. Without the intermittent words to focus on, her eyes started doing more of the focusing. On him. On the fact that he didn't have a shirt on. On the fact that, even in the unnatural lighting, his skin was impossibly tan. And good God was there a lot of it to look at. And then there were the muscles coiled tightly under his skin. In all her life Maia had never seen a man so built. Then her mouth went dry as her eyes locked on a trail of dark hair that grew down the center of his chest and over taut muscles before disappearing under the waistband of his shorts. The shorts he was wearing left very little to the imagination, and her mouth went completely dry.

She was only aware of her abject ogling of his body when the metal door behind her was jostled as a slot she hadn't noticed was opened. "Eat up, you animals." A voice growled, but that was all the information Maia got. Whoever was about to feed them wasn't one of the two men she'd seen. A grocery sack and a plastic tray of food were shoved in perfunctorily.

The man inside the room lunged towards the tray, and Maia tossed herself to the side, not about to get between the feral man and his food. "Shit, wild man!" She exclaimed.

He froze, a hunk of raw meat halfway to his mouth on claws she hadn't noticed pop out since she'd been too busy throwing herself out of the way. How convenient. If she hadn't had the good sense to give him that space, he might have skewered her, regardless of his agreement not to do so. So… not malicious, but certainly not as harmless as she might have been trying to convince herself he was.

He was staring at her again, and, when her stomach made an unbidden growl, his head ticked to the side. His eyes ticked to the meat on his claw and after several long moments, he held it towards her.

Maia shook her head, but was awed by the gesture, "I can't."

He looked confused for a second, and Maia dared move closer.

She gestured to the tray, glad to see it wasn't all raw meat, "I can't eat raw meat, I'd get sick, but if you'll share, I'll help you finish off that wilty spinach."

Honestly, the spinach and other vegetables on the tray looked horrific, but they were going to be better for her than trying to consume raw meat. She just hoped they weren't feeding him people, that would be beyond horrific. He didn't move, so she did, settling cross legged on the floor, leaving plenty of space between them while allowing her to reach the food.

When they'd finished eating, the tray was pulled back through the slot by a metal chain, but Maia grabbed the plastic bag before it went through. It couldn't hurt to have. Her mother had taught her for years to look for alternate uses for things, though she doubted her mother would approve of any of the ideas Maia had for the bag.

They'd made a mistake, hadn't they? The bastards had obviously assumed she was a meek school-girl who was only going to get a few seconds of life once she'd been thrown inside, but that wasn't the case. Maia was the youngest of five, with three of them being boys. She was tougher than she looked, and, even with her new companion seemingly being a few cards short of a full deck, there had to be a way for them to work together to escape.

That would need to wait though. Maia could feel her eyelids growing heavy after a few hours of sitting and staring at the wild man pace, and moved to lay down on the cold ground. She was almost asleep when she felt herself being picked up. Instantly awake, Maia's heart hammered in her chest before she realized it was just her companion and he was taking her to the cot that set against the back wall of the room. He lay her down and walked away. "Thank you." She whispered after taking a minute to let the shock wear off, curling up to keep herself warm.

He grunted in response.

Maia smiled in spite of the whole situation, "Goodnight, Wild Man." Her eyes closed before she got a chance to take in the stunned expression on his face.


	5. Chapter 5: Misery Loves It's Company

#sickMaia

* * *

 **"Beat but I'm not broken  
** **Guide me through with your hand  
** **Lead with your words spoken  
** **Show me how to listen**

 **Let your light shine through me**  
 **Take this hate I can't release**  
 **Help me make the blind see**  
 **Misery loves its company."**

 **(Misery Loves Its Company- The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus)**

* * *

The female whimpered in her sleep. It had been five meals since she'd arrived, and he still wasn't used to the constant noise she made. Since he'd put her on the cot that first night, he hadn't gotten much sleep, but had instead been gifted with a new way to pass the time: watching her sleep.

While he wasn't used to the constant noise, he was familiar with the noises she usually made as she slept, and this one was new. It warranted closer investigation.

The female was shivering. Her waifish body shook more violently with every breath she took. He let himself touch her for the first time since that first night, attempting to wake her, but finding himself stunned by how warm her skin was despite her chilled behavior. She leaned into his touch in her sleep, and he sucked in a breath.

Illness.

It had tainted her sweet scent, and he'd been too preoccupied to notice, too busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Too busy trying to understand what Stryker had planned now that the original plan of her swift demise had been foiled. Was this what Stryker had been waiting on?

He didn't get sick, they'd tried several times, injecting him with vile smelling liquids and talking about things like 'AIDS' and 'The Plague'. He'd hardly shown symptoms before his body killed the intruders, but that had been enough for him to learn the stench of human disease.

Hers didn't quite smell like disease, but it was enough for an idea to dawn on him. While he didn't really feel the temperature in the room, she wasn't him, she didn't have the immunities he seemed to have. She was cold, had to have been for the entire time. She'd only been fed once a day too, but he knew that their captors ate three meals every day. A feeling akin to guilt gnawed at him.

He knew gnawing hunger, he knew cold, and he hadn't noticed that her tolerance for the two were far lower than his own. She'd become sick from the combination of the two. That explained why she'd begun sleeping more and more, and also why her last waking period had been considerably quieter than the others. He had stupidly assumed she was tired of hearing herself talk. That didn't seem to be the case at all. She hadn't felt well.

He looked around the room for something to help her with, though what he thought in the sparse room might be of use, he really didn't know. There was only the cot, a shower head, and a toilet, both mounted to the wall. Her using the toilet had been an amusing event the first several days, but they'd almost come to an agreement for one another's privacy. He turned away when she used the facilities, and she did the same for him, though he really didn't understand the issue she had with bodily functions. She regarded the meat they fed him with the same disdain.

Maia started coughing violently, drawing his focus back to helping her. With nothing but himself, he did the only thing he could think of short of begging their captors for help. That was just likely to get her killed. No, the only thing he could do was hope he was enough.

He'd stayed away from her for the most part, giving her more space then was probably necessary, so doing more than touching her arm was a bit of a shock as he eased himself down next to her on the cot. He pulled her to his chest and just did what felt natural, instinct guiding him to tuck her head under his chin and to wrap his arms securely around her back.

The relief in her was instantaneous. She relaxed into him, her breath steadying, the movement of the hairs on his chest keeping him intimately aware of each breath that left her body. After several hours, she shifted slightly, getting impossibly closer to his warmth, flattening her hands against his chest and turning her face deeper into the chasm between them.

When she was startled awake by their morning meal being shoved through the slot in the door, the female stared at him, their faces just inches apart. He hadn't seen her look so caught off guard since when he'd almost caught her with his claws getting to the first meal they'd shared.

He was caught off guard when she squeaked, and pushed back from him, "Holy shit!"

It had yet to cease to amuse him to hear curse words leave her mouth. She seemed too delicate for the words she used, but then again, she was too delicate. He had to get her to do more than pick at the green on the tray. She was scowling slightly at him as he grabbed the meat from the tray and, with a snick of his claws, cut away a thin slice, which he then tossed at the door they had kept electrified once they'd realized he wasn't going to mutilate the pretty female.

It took a few tries, but he finally handed her the final product. Maia blinked slowly, "Did you…just electrocute meat until it was cooked?" He nodded slightly in reply, and the corners of her lips turned up in the expression he favored, "Well, damn, Wild Man. Personal space heater? Chef? I must have lost my damned mind."

She ate the offered meat anyway, and he watched every bite, an odd sense of satisfaction building in his chest. When she pointed out his staring, he just glared at her.

Her strength had obviously not recovered yet though, and a short time later, she was visibly falling asleep again, not to mention rubbing her arms to keep warm. Without asking her permission by pantomime or waiting until she read his mind, he picked her up again and returned to the cot, curling around her.

Maia lay there stiffly without a word for a while before she relaxed, and looked up into his face. She seemed to be studying him, so he just stared back. "What are you?" She asked, voice hardly a whisper.

His first instinct was to recoil from her, but she twined her arms around him, halting his movement simply by stunning him. Since the handshake, she hadn't initiated contact with him, but now they were doing something more than just sharing warmth. She tucked her cold feet against his legs, "I think I'd kill for a pair of socks and a blanket." She sniffled, "Hell, I'd even kill for a box of tissues at this point." There was a long pause, but he could tell she was still awake, "Thank you, Wild Man. I'd be dead without you, wouldn't I?"

She probably would have.

It took a couple of days, her using him as a tissue at one point they'd both rather not dwell on ever again, but she got better. The day after she seemed fully recovered, and a blanket followed their food tray. The day after, soap and a change of clothes for the both of them.


	6. Chapter 6: People Like Us

And now begins Day 2 of posting this thing on ! Let me know what you think!

* * *

 **"We come into this world unknown**  
 **But know that we are not alone**  
 **They try and knock us down**  
 **But change is coming, it's our time now**

 **Hey… everybody loses it,**  
 **Everybody wants to throw it all away sometimes**  
 **And hey… yeah I know what you're going through**  
 **Don't let it get the best of you, you'll make it out alive."**  
 **(People Like Us- Kelly Clarkson)**

* * *

Honestly, after the exciting adventure of having a cold induced cold and her companion awkwardly caring for her, Maia had expected captivity to return to the same pattern as the first five days. It hadn't. She had tried one night to sleep back on the floor, but her companion had been firmly against that, depositing her on the cot again. That hadn't lasted very long either, as she'd shivered once and earned a speculative scowl from him.

She gave him a small smile, "Would you mind?"

His only response was to join her.

Maia sighed, and let herself relax. He threw off warmth like nothing she'd ever known before, and she was already more than a little addicted to sharing in that warmth as she slept.

A few days later, for the first time since she'd arrived, Maia woke up before he did. She took a second to look at his face, to really look for the first time. He had strong features that matched the rest of him, coupled with rather un-masculine eyelashes that were currently hiding his forest green eyes from her, and she found herself missing the dark woodsy color she'd become so used to looking at. His lips looked like they'd been carved out of marble, as did his nose, which looked as if he'd broken it at some point and it hadn't quite healed properly.

Of course she only knew that because of a friend from ninth grade summer camp who had been obsessed with Owen Wilson's face. She's learned a lot that summer that she probably shouldn't have known for a while longer, enough to make using the toilet anywhere near a man mortifying.

It had been over two weeks, and Maia still dreaded every time she had to use the restroom. The first time, however, had been the worst. She'd woken up the second day feeling like her bladder was going to burst, and had been forced to spend several minutes evaluating the reality of exposing herself like that to a mostly deranges claw wielding man or just peeing herself and her sweatpants, and living through the smell.

She'd decided to do the braver of the two options, mostly out of fear of him having to smell her for however long it took to get cleaned up. She'd already figured out that his senses were heightened, and even she was aware that the smell of urine was not one that needed to be experienced in even greater detail. Later that day she'd had to take care of her other business, and that had been even worse. Right after she'd flushed the stainless steel demon though, he had gone right over and, as her brothers would have described, peed like a race horse. After that, well…she couldn't find it in her to be bashful about bodily functions. They respectfully turned away, but she didn't make a big deal about it, especially after he'd held her against his body when she'd been sick.

That had been a miserable few days, but she'd be a fool to not have seriously appreciated his warmth and firm body. Maia regretfully eased out of his grip, glancing up at the camera that watched their every move. She bent over and touched her toes, grimacing as her spine cracked. Despite being able to cuddle up next to her cell mate, they were still sleeping on a cot. She was honestly surprised that it was holding up beneath the weight of both of them.

Maia began her daily ritual of staring at the door until food was slid through the slot. She'd tried once to shove her hand in the slot, but Wild Man had pulled her back just before a gunshot that could have taken her hand off. She hadn't needed to read his mind to know he was pissed at her. He had to think she was an idiot at this point. He'd saved her from losing life and limb several times already, most dramatically being when she'd run at the door on the second day and had gotten close enough to feel the electricity she hadn't noticed before he jerked her away.

Two weeks, and she was beyond stir crazy. Half of her wanted to open her mind to his again just for entertainment, but she wasn't a masochist enough to subject herself to another raging headache. A snarl from behind her sent a shiver down spine. As a rule, he was eerily quiet for such a big man, unless he was growling at her for being an idiot, so the snarl was terrifying.

She turned around slowly, "You okay?"

He was still asleep, but his face was contorted in what seemed to be agony. He gasped several times, and Maia put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, hey, wake up." He bolted upright, causing her to stagger back, "Wild man?"

He didn't respond to her nickname, he just stared through her with bloodshot eyes, and he roared at her, claws extending with a snick.

Maia had nowhere to go. Her options were him or the electrified door behind her. He approached faster than she could move anyway, so she just crossed her arms in front of her, closed her eyes, and used her last breath to yell, "No!"

She expected searing pain, and it came, but it wasn't in her body like she'd been prepared for. Her arm felt like it was on fire, and when she opened her eyes, she was stunned to find him frozen before her, the claws on his right hand having just slid against her skin. He was blinking at her slowly, like he wasn't quite awake.

Maia let the barriers in her mind fall. She couldn't afford to keep them up anymore. Ignoring the blood oozing down her arm, she reached out to him, hoping to stir him. His first coherent thoughts were about the blood dripping from her arm onto the floor. She touched her fingertips to his face, "Hey, hey, look at me. It's just a scratch. I'm okay." His eyes drug from her blood to her face, and she read his guilt both in his mind and his face. She also now knew why he'd attached her: He'd been having a nightmare. Maia cupped his face in her hands. "It was just a dream, Wild Man, a bad dream. It's just me. No one here is hurting you."

It took a few seconds for him to realize the truth in her words to sink in through his confusion, but he was finally able to focus on her scent, fixating on the warmth in it. Maia smiled at him, "There you go." She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She couldn't protect him from anything, not really, but she could make him feel at least a little safe, give him a little comfort. She'd been accidentally hurt by her younger cousin when she was twelve, and had forced herself through the pain to comfort the poor kid. It was almost one of her specialities, and the reason that she was the favorite female cousin compared to her ice-queen sister, Sarah.

He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck like a dog would, but the sensations it brought didn't make her laugh like being nuzzled by a grown man should have. She certainly wasn't laughing when one phrase came to the forefront of his mind much more coherently than before.

'I hurt her.'


	7. Chapter 7: Show Me What I'm Looking For

**"Wait, I'm wrong**  
 **Should have done better than this**  
 **Please, I'll be strong**  
 **I'm finding it hard to resist**  
 **So show me what I'm looking for."**

 **(Show Me What I'm Looking For- Carolina Liar)**

* * *

He'd almost killed her. Could have if she hadn't managed to wake him up in time. Her scream had ripped through him, reaching him even in the dark recesses of his sleep-walking nightmare. She'd opened her mind back up to him too, he could tell now that they'd spent the last two weeks with her closed off. Maia had rambled something about him giving her a headache, and he'd felt bad enough about that. Now she was bleeding. She seemed to be ignoring the pain she had to be in, but he'd hurt her.

She was scowling at him as she held her spare pair of pants to her arm, "Come on, they're just scratches. I have three older brothers and my sister is a sadist. Trust me I've had worse."

That didn't make him feel any better. She wasn't pressing down hard enough. She gasped when he drew close to her, putting his hand over hers to add more pressure. He was fairly certain that her gasp, lovely as it was, wasn't because she was glad to be close to him. At least he thought that at first, but then she put her other hand over his and smiled up at him, "It's okay, Wild Man. Promise. I'm not going to die or anything." Her blue eyes dimmed ever so slightly, "You startled me, not going to lie, but let's be honest, we're not the ones we should be afraid of." She laughed softly, "And damnit, I'm completely insane, but, Wild Man, I trust you."

'I trust you.' He wanted to say, but he couldn't make his tongue and mouth move to produce words like she could. Maia tipped her head to the side so her neck was stretched temptingly in front of him, and then she pressed her lips his wrist.

Her blue eyes cut up at him, "I know." Just what did she know? She smiled again, "I know you trust me, and I know you still can't speak. Your mind though, it's less…messy then it was before." She stepped back, still holding his hand, "No headache. I don't think I'll have to keep us apart anymore." Color raced into her cheeks, and she let his hand go, drifting to the pile of junk she'd been accumulating from their meals, messing with whatever it was she'd collected.

As usual, when mealtime came, he put himself between her and the door. She had a tendency to do stupid things when it came to their captors being close. "I do not." She hissed from her pile. It was a relief that she would finally be able to know his thoughts, it would make their days less reliant on her rambles and his growls, but he wasn't listening to her.

The man behind the door's scent was laden with satisfaction and recent release. "Almost got her, Weapon X! Surprised the little bitch didn't shit herself. You two had almost gotten boring."

Maia lunged at the door and growled, "Don't call me that!"

He caught her before she could do herself any damage, and kept his arm around her even though she fought him. 'Stop' he thought, focusing on her, and, to his satisfaction, she stilled.

Of course she glared up at him like a furious kitten, but still, she stopped. Out of spite, she kicked him in the shin. "Ugh! I forgot you're an ass."

He chuckled, but when the food came in, he growled and kicked it out, keeping her from looking at it. The horny bastard outside had spent himself on their food. He'd rather listen to her stomach growl than let that shit get close to her. She gagged dramatically, "Ugh, gross!" Directing her voice to the door she screamed, "Go jerk off with your sister you fucking sicko!" He was continually surprised by her vitriol.

They ignored the cursing outside and she grinned up at him, "Like I've said, I have three brothers." She leaned against his shoulder, "My oldest brother, Thomas is a sailor and fifteen years older than me, I learned a lot from him when our sister or mom weren't around to glare." She brushed her hands over his arm as if she was studying him, "I've never had anyone know about my power, much less anyone actively talking to me using it. It's actually pretty cool even when you're being an asshole." She tapped on his arm, "Okay, Wild Man, time to put me down. The impulse to be an idiot has passed." He let her go, and stood there for a minute until she asked, "Give me a boost?"

She was standing under the camera with plastic in her hands, and he followed her lead, letting her stand on his knee so she could put the plastic over the camera. She hopped off and smiled cheerfully at him, "Tired of giving them a free show. They can get their rocks off elsewhere."

Their day continued without any further drama. Their night was a different story.

He kept from going to sleep too deeply, he didn't want to risk stabbing her again. Every time he stirred, he'd take a deep breath, making sure that her scent wasn't obscured by any infection from the wounds on her arm. About the fourth time he woke up, there was something new in the room. A scent, but it wasn't the acrid odor of disease or the musky burn of infection. It was something he couldn't remember smelling since he'd been with Stryker, not that he could remember his life before them.

Next to him, Maia arched her back, and sighed, her face scrunching up for a second. They were facing each other, one of her knees thrown over his legs. The scent was her. And it was so much better than anything he could have imagined. She smelled sweet without being cloying, and seemed much warmer than usual. She wasn't sick again. No, she was aroused. She settled closer to him in her sleep, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch her face. She'd gotten paler in the weeks she'd been with him, but a flush was spread across her cheeks making her look more edible than usual. Her lips parted at his touch, and she gasped softly.

Without his consent, the previously vestigial organ between his legs began filling with blood. Then she rocked her hips, the heat between her own legs even hotter against his knee.

He flung himself off the cot. He'd resisted touching her for too long, and if she was going to make delectable noises and rub herself against him, he couldn't trust himself not to. She whined, rolling into the space he'd just left, astonishingly still fast asleep. And damn him if he didn't take advantage of her continued slumber and the covered camera to convince the offending organ to resume it's usual lax state with sharp tugs of his hand. He was, he decided, a 'fucking sicko' just like the same men who were holding them.

He hadn't felt shame before, but somehow, he was pretty sure this was it. He'd had enough done to him without his consent, and she couldn't give it if she was asleep, no matter what her body might be saying. He'd already hurt her enough, he couldn't inflict the same damage on her that they'd done to him. He wasn't going to touch her again without her permission, no matter how badly he wanted to. She was going to kill him.

Maia's first words when she woke up and saw him crouched in the corner, "Oh, shit. That wasn't a dream." He'd deny that the way color flooded her face didn't make him want to smile.


	8. Chapter 8: Hypnotic

**"Magnetic everything about you**

 **You really got me now**  
 **You do to me so well**  
 **Hypnotic takin' over me**  
 **Make me feel like someone else**  
 **You got me talkin' in my sleep**

 **I don't wanna come back down**  
 **I don't wanna touch the ground**  
 **Pacific ocean dug so deep**  
 **Hypnotic takin' over me."**

 **(Hypnotic- Zella Day)**

* * *

Where were three inches of water when a person needed them? The temptation to try to drown herself in their toilet water was strong, but her companion probably wouldn't like that anymore than he liked being molested by a teenager who apparently had grabby hands in her sleep. She'd thought it was a dream, rocking her body against his and him touching her, but she'd woken up and It obviously hadn't been. He looked absolutely wrecked.

Maia burst into tears. "I'm so sorry!" Then she recognized the tightness in her gut and cried harder. Of course. The last humiliating thing that could happen to her in captivity had arrived, and it had caused her to molest him. She always got a little achy before her period started, usually the only time the lack of a steady boyfriend had ever really bothered her.

She startled when hands clasped down on her shoulders, and her Wild Man growled low. 'I'm okay' he projected. He seemed to be getting better at that, and his mind seemed even more organized.

Maia pulled herself together despite the hormones. She was better than Aunt Flo. She let her head rest against his chest, "I totally groped you in my sleep though, didn't I? I'm sorry. I was having a dream, and I didn't realize I was sleep…touching. I would sleep walk as a child, but…"

'Weren't thinking of me, it's fine.' He projected clearly.

Maia's breath hitched, and before she could stop herself, the truth bubbled out, "I was."

His whole body stiffened, but his only thought was, 'Wasn't expecting that'.

"You mad?" She asked, looking up, recalling the way it had felt to be cherished and touched by him in her dream. He shook his head, and she couldn't hold her gasp in, "Oh, well, guess that changes things." She stepped away, "Little hormonal. Want to forget about the whole thing for now?" He nodded, and they spent the next few days pleasantly enough.

Maia got a wild idea one afternoon, "Let's play a game. I was going to suggest this before…" She trailed off, and shook her head, "Okay, well, you sit and I'll sit behind you. I'm going to go down the alphabet, and you let me know if anything… shakes out."

'Where'd you get this shit from?' He questioned, but he sat down anyway.

Maia laughed, sitting cross legged behind him, "I was in a psychology class before, my teacher showed us a study on amnesia. That, and you aren't making my skull explode anymore, so I'll be able to help a bit." She wanted to touch him, put her hands on his back or strong shoulders, but she didn't, she just left her hands in her lap, "A…B…C…D…E…F…G…H…" His head ticked to the side, but he told her to keep going, "Okay…I…J…" That drew more interest from him, but he wasn't ready to stop, "K…L…" He spun around, locking eyes with her, "That's it? L?"

He nodded, smiling at her, and Maia couldn't stop herself from stretching out to kiss his cheek. It was so stupid, so very very stupid, especially considering their recent encounter, but Maia couldn't regret it for the world. The second she touched him, he pulled her into a bone crushing hug. His hands were warm, scorching against the bare skin of her arms as she settled herself onto him. She drew her lips from his cheek and rubbed her face against his beard, "L. L, my Wild Man."

He liked that, liked her calling him hers. The possessive growl he let out shook her to the core, and he stood with her in his arms, pinning her to the wall of their enclosure. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to get her lips on his and his hands on her body, and was completely stunned when he suddenly pushed her off. "The hell?"

He shushed her. He actually shushed her. Maia stood staring at him in indignant shock, her whole body throbbing. "Seriously?"

Then the door opened and guards started screaming at them. Great, it was her original pissy captor and some friends. They wanted her. After a few seconds, Maia wasn't focused on them though, she was focused on the fact that, behind the open doorway, there was someone else who's mind she could read. A female. "Let me go, Wild Man. They're going to bring me back."

L didn't seem convinced, but was just as aware of the guns they were wielding as she was. Maia walked with the guards, staying out of the pissy one's head and avoiding the others eyes. Her heart fell through the floor when they brought her into a lab and she heard the voice that matched the mind, "Hello, Little Sister."

Maia gasped, eyes locked on the dark haired female in front of her, "Sarah?"

Her sister nodded, her aquiline face carefully blank, "I need to draw some blood. The blood they brought me when they brought you in is gone."

"Why are you doing this?" Maia asked, tears filling her eyes.

Sarah Kinney sneered, "Wanted to check how your mutant DNA effects your menstrual cycle. You are on the tail end of it, correct?" Maia didn't respond, and Sarah continued, "I'm assuming you are. It was very thoughtful of you to track it on the calendar in your bedroom. You're one of the lucky ones who's never caught off guard. I bet these last few days have been hell. You always were a neat freak."

Maia burst into tears, but couldn't find it in herself to speak. There weren't any words that would make the situation she was in any better.

"Tears won't work on me, Maia. They never did before, they're not now that I know you're a damned mutant. I mean I always knew you were a fuck-up, but a mutant…that was almost a surprise." She wrapped a tourniquet around Maia's upper arm, and Maia didn't even move, "So you read minds, right? That's the report. You control them too? Is that how you made Mom and Dad dote on your every word?"

"No. They love me." Maia whispered, frozen by the barrage of horrible images her sister was flooding her with as she drew vials of blood. "Why are you doing this to me? I'm your sister."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "Half. You're my half sister. Found that out with your first bit of blood. Apparently our mother's a whore. I did always think it was weird that there were nine years between you and Louis. That, and the fact that Mom and Dad weren't even talking when they'd had to have made you." Sarah picked up some of Maia's lank hair, "Your red hair was a clue too. Even before I got into mutant genetics. There aren't any red headed Kinney's." She turned to the guards, "Before you take her back, give her some food. Don't want her fainting and cracking her skull open. She's too valuable."

Sarah turned her attention back to Maia, "You're a fool, Maia. Weapon X will kill you. It's what he does, why he exists."

"Then why keep us together? Do you want me dead?" Maia asked, voice soft and even as her brain began piecing things together.

"Research." Sarah answered simply. She pulled the needle out of Maia's arm, clicking her tongue, "You two are going to get a new room. That's a kindness because I'm your sister, Maia. Enjoy it."

"Don't cover the new camera. You survived well past when we thought you would, but your life could still get a lot worse if you don't do as you're told. The only reason these men haven't gotten their hands on you is for our mother's sake. She thinks you're dead, of course, but better a dead mutant virgin than a living mutant whore. I went home for your funeral, it was a beautiful service. Thomas cried like a little girl the entire time. I wanted to strangle him."

"You bitch!" Maia screamed, lunging at her sister, the fog she'd been under suddenly dispelling completely. Guards held her back.

Sarah sighed passively, "Tie her down, I need some tissue samples too."

Maia managed to bite one of the men before the other cracked her in the head with his gun. Her vision blurred, "I'll kill you for this, Sarah. One day, I swear I'll kill you."

Sarah chuckled, pushing some of her dark hair out of her face, "Oh, Maia, you couldn't hurt a fly. Your mutated DNA is the only interesting thing about you. You may curse like Thomas, but you're weak."

Maia lunged again, and when the men jerked her back, her head hitting the metal table she was on caused consciousness to flee her, but not before she heard her sister say, "Seriously? I wanted her awake for this."

The blackness was a welcome relief.


	9. Chapter 9: Safe and Sound

**"I could show you love**  
 **In a tidal wave of mystery**  
 **You'll still be standing next to me**

 **You could be my luck**  
 **Even if we're six feet underground**  
 **I know that we'll be safe and sound**  
 **We're safe and sound."**

 **(Safe and Sound- Capital Cities)**

* * *

Every second without her was agony. Maia had assured him that they'd intended to bring her back, but what if they had been mistaken? What if they'd been fed wrong information? Was this what Stryker had planned? Letting him get attached to the female and then taking her away? That'd be just like the sick fuck.

The door to the cell opened, and he hoped, no, he expected to see her being shoved inside. She wasn't. He could smell her though, and all the logic in the world wasn't going to keep him from following her scent. He let his claws rip through his skin, the sound louder than usual in the deafening silence that surrounded him.

It didn't take long to find her, and he was almost disappointed that no one had tried to stop him. The first thing he noticed was that, somehow, they'd rated better accommodations, there was actually a bathroom to the left. The second thing he noticed was Maia. She was laying on a much more substantial cot than the one they'd had before, and she was completely still.

As soon as he crossed the threshold into the room, the door snapped shut behind him and promptly began humming, charged with electricity again. He didn't care, his every thought was being consumed by Maia's eerie stillness. Even in her sleep….especially in her sleep… she was always moving, usually making an obscene amount of noise

He knelt next to her, claws sinking back into his flesh, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when her eyes slowly opened. She bit her lower lip and dissolved into tears, throwing her arms around his neck. He held her, becoming more and more confused when it became apparent that the only wounds on her were needle marks on the inside of her left arm, and a small square of cotton taped over a wound on her shoulder. The third thing he noticed was that the last tinge of old blood had faded from her scent. What was left was intoxicating, even more so than the first time he'd smelled her all those weeks earlier.

She hiccuped the tears to an end, and curled up in his arms. When she finally spoke, her voice was shaky, "I could hear my sister. That's why I went with them. She's in on this. She hates me even more than I always thought she did." Several minutes passed before she spoke again, minutes he used to try to think of what he would say to her if he could speak, how he would soothe her with words instead of just his physical presence. "My parents buried me, L. My sister let them bury me, and she's known the entire time that I was here. She acts like there's something wrong with me, but…who in their right mind does something like that?"

Monsters. Maia babbled constantly, she was dramatic and hormonal, but there was no way her parents didn't love her. She was hopelessly endearing, and he couldn't have been the only one completely caught by her charming nature. He couldn't be the only one who wanted her safe.

She smiled weakly at him, "You're sweet." She held one of his hands in hers, tracing her fingers over where his claws broke his skin over and over again, "Could you teach me to fight? My brothers never really would. I'm tired of being helpless."

His instant reaction was to deny her request before she'd even finished making it. The thought of her having to fight, of him not being there to protect her was incomprehensible. But…she'd had to face her vile sister without him, had been alone with guards whose scents relayed enough for him to know that they weren't immune to her physical charms any more than he was. They'd gotten lucky this time, but what would happen if they didn't the next time?

Before he'd even really consciously decided to teach her to protect herself, she kissed his cheek, "Thank you, L."

He bristled at that, narrowing his eyes at her and dumping her out of his lap as she stood. She just laughed shortly before gesturing to the camera in the corner of their new room. "Before we…you want to take care of that? No one needs to know what we get up to. If they're so curious, they can ask."

He readily did as she asked, slicing through the metal components like they were butter. Maia, in her annoying yet adorable way, took the pieces and piled them neatly beside the bed. And to think he'd thought he'd finally escaped the pile of junk. She glared at him again.

Maia was a quick study, and he could tell that her ability to read minds was gong to be perhaps her strongest asset in protecting herself. She lacked strength though. She was sturdy, took a hit well, anticipated most of them, but she just didn't have the muscle mass or dexterity to do much about it. By the end of their first sparing session, Maia was breathless and sweaty, but apparently pleased with herself.

She giggled, laying flat on her back in the middle of the floor, "Of course I'm pleased with myself. I didn't totally suck, and now I've managed to get you all sweaty too." Well, she was better than he'd feared, but still, if she hadn't accessed the mind of her opponent, things wouldn't end well for her. They had a lot of work to do still. "I know that, L. Eye contact is how I read minds. I'm just mostly pleased I got you to sweat." Maia pulled herself to her feet, and put her arms around his waist, chin on his chest so she could look him in the eyes. "You know, I didn't appreciate being shushed earlier. Or being interrupted by my bitch of a psycho sister."

He could get on board with her new plan for sure.

She yawned suddenly, "On second thought, you've already worn me out." That was a fucking shame. She did look tired though. Her bravado was wearing thin, and the Maia that had bawled her eyes out was threatening to return. She smiled sadly at him, "You know me too well. Can we sleep now?" He just nodded at her, and found himself inordinately pleased at the thick blanket on the new cot. She was too, throwing herself on it and burying her face into it. When he sat down on the edge, she looked up at him, "At least my bitch of a sister is good for something." She curled against him when he lay down, and put her head on his chest, "I don't understand her. I can read her mind, but I can't understand her. She hates me, but then we get this new set up. Completely crazy."

They lay in the dim room for a while, but she hadn't settled into sleep. "Yeah, I'm still awake. Guess I wasn't as tired as I thought." She moved her hand to his, hidden beneath the comforter. Fingertips brushed lightly against his knuckles as she shifted her hips. An invitation. A test.

His breath caught at the contact, his whole body tensing. Was she really suggesting what he thought she was? Instinct begged him to take her up on her offer without delay. She wasn't a female that deserved that. Instead, he folded his hand over hers, interlaced their fingers, and pulled her on top of him. This time, he didn't settle for a kiss on the cheek, and he would kill anyone who interrupted. The animal in him roared, thrilled with the turn of events, thrilled that he was finally going to make her his.


	10. Chapter 10: Bad Romance

**"I want your horror  
** **I want your design  
** **'Cause you're a criminal  
** **As long as you're mine  
** **I want your love  
** **Love-love-love  
** **I want your love."**

 **(Bad Romance- Lady Gaga)**

* * *

Maia was continually surprised by his gentleness. L hesitated after their first kiss, unsure of what to do next, not positive she was even breathing, terrified he'd somehow hurt her. Silly man. Maia took a deep breath, the sound loud in the quiet room. The warmth of his hand and the sound of his heart hammering in his chest under her cheek. Then he moved his hand from hers, laying his palm flat against her stomach. Eyes locked with a simmering tension, watching one another's expressions carefully for clues. For signals to stop or keep going. Maia could tell he wanted her, could tell that she wasn't the only one fully invested. She made no indication that she was uncomfortable or wished him to stop as his hand hesitantly roamed over her. Exploratory and careful, pausing briefly once he reached the hem of her tank top before curling his fingers under the fabric. Grazing her skin and sending a jolt through her frayed nerves.

Surprised at her own daring, but compelled by the burning need between her legs, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, bringing a gentle hand to his jaw. Hushed and discrete, as if they could be found out at any moment. As if they weren't miles away from anyone that they knew, as if he wasn't an amnesiac, as if they weren't trapped in a slightly more gilded cage than the first one, and most importantly, as if she wasn't seventeen and he wasn't older.

His body stiffened, but then relaxed against her as he gave in to the kiss - at first tender and pleading but quickly gaining momentum. She could tell his tenuous control was being tested. Suppressing a moan against her neck, his hand slipped under her shirt and up her frame.

She arched her back with a soft sigh as he squeezed her chest, fingers grazing along the curve of her breast, pushing his hips against her. For the first time, she noticed that he was hard, his arousal pressed firmly into her side.

A prick of doubt formed in her chest. No matter how badly she wanted it, was this really the best idea? Did she really want to open this door? Nothing would be the same if they went down this road. She'd wanted him for weeks, known that about herself, known that there was so much wrong with the situation that it couldn't possibly be a good idea, but he wanted her too. She could tell that, read it in his mind. What they were about to do was illegal. She couldn't forget that. He may not even know that her age made it wrong, she was pretty sure he didn't, but she did. She'd deal with the consequences later. Right now, in this moment, she didn't care. And the warmth spreading through her body urged her to continue.

No longer unsure or cautious, her hand moved down his neck, across his shoulder and onto his side. Fingers greedily discovering him, grasping his body through his clothes as he his lips sucked at the pulse point. He let go, his hands continuing their exploration of her body. He tugged at the elastic band of her shorts, his breath on her neck, lips brushing against her skin.

"I told you not to screw with the camera, Maia." Sarah's condescending voice rang out. Maia and L jerked apart, his claws out in a second as he rose to his knees on the cot, pushing her down. The door opened a second later, and guards flooded the room, guns trained on L. Sarah followed right behind them. "Weapon X, I wouldn't move. I'm not above having one of these brutes kill her." She shifted her gaze from L to Maia, "I'm sorry you couldn't follow my directions. Let's see how this ends for you." She turned to the guards, and gestured at Maia and L, "You know what to do."

Maia grabbed L's elbow when he was about to strike, "Hold on." No one had any intentions of hurting them, and she wanted it to stay that way. One of the guards went for the mess of wires and metal that had been the second camera. With a practiced efficiency he wired a camera into place and bolted a gleaming metal cage around it. Maia had a feeling that they wouldn't be able to impede this camera as they had the first two.

Dread grew in her stomach when she realized Sarah had left and there were still weapons pointed at her. Their thoughts were turning far less passive. Several things happened all at once when the de facto electrician returned to his wall of mouth breathing companions: L roared and lunged, a rifle fired, and a guard's hand hit the floor still clutching the rifle. Maia ignored the screaming guard, her whole being focused on the glaring emptiness where L's mind had been in hers, "No!". She screamed, throwing herself from the cot to where L had fallen.

It took considerable effort, but she managed to roll him over, and she cradled his head in her hands, horrified by the brain matter that seeped between her fingers and the hole in between his frozen open eyes. He wasn't breathing. Maia clutched his head to her chest and sobbed, "No, no, no, no, no! Come on, you can't be dead! I can't be alone here!" She pressed a kiss into his hairline, "Don't leave me, L, please don't." Her pleas continued for what felt like hours, but the guards had left, leaving only her dead Wild Man and the severed hand.

Rage filled her at the sight of the limb, and all disgust fled her. Grabbing the limb, Maia held it aloft in the direction of the new camera, "How dare you? The next person through those doors is going to end up just like this poor son of a bitch." The rage didn't last long, and she hit the hand against the food slot until it was hot to the touch and someone finally opened the slot for her to fling it out. The scent of charred flesh should have bothered her, but with the limb gone, L was her only focus. He was dirty, and that wouldn't stand. It took considerable effort, but she managed to get him into the new bathroom and into the shower stall. The water was more difficult to turn on than she'd hoped, but she was fixated. When the water finally popped on, it was ice cold, and she gasped. And screamed when there was another gasp in the tiny bathroom. "L?" She stared down at his body, but he wasn't dead anymore. Color was flooding back into his face as the bullet worked it's way out of his skull. Maia sunk to her knees next to him, "L? Why didn't I know you heal? You never told me!"

When the bullet fell away though, and his eyes fluttered open, Maia realized she was in a whole lot more danger than she'd thought. There were no thoughts in his head, and she'd even made eye contact again, if her power ended at death, that should have resurrected the connection. Maia stumbled back when he sat up, her head hitting the tile behind her. She couldn't read the minds of animals. His claws burst from his skin, dangerously close to her neck. "Calm down, L. It's me, it's Maia." Her voice was trembling, but she almost cried when his claws sluggishly went back into his hands. "Yeah, that's it. It's okay."

His nostrils flared, and he lunged towards her, grabbing her hips and fixing his mouth against her neck. Maia struggled, terrified that he was going to tear her throat out with his teeth, but then she became aware of something. He was hard and warm against her thigh. Whatever he had planned didn't seem to involve killing her. Maia let her hands move from being braced against his chest to touch his face and smiled at him, "Okay, Wild Man. I'm all yours."

He let go of her neck and grabbed the top of her soaked tank top, jerking the fabric apart to reveal her body to him. He took one ragged breath before he growled, "Mine."

* * *

Last one for the night everyone! Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11: Believer

Smut guys, this is smut. If it's not your thing, or you are under legal age, move on to the next chapter!

* * *

 **"Last things last  
** **By the grace of the fire and the flames  
** **You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins, oh-ooh  
** **The blood in my veins, oh-ooh  
** **But they never did, ever lived, ebbing and flowing  
** **Inhibited, limited  
** **Till it broke open and rained down  
** **It rained down, like...**

 **Pain! You made me a, you made me a believer, believer**  
 **Pain! You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer**  
 **Pain! Let the bullets fly, oh let them rain**  
 **My life, my love, my drive, it came from...**  
 **Pain! You made me a, you made me a believer, believer."**

 **(Believer- Imagine Dragons)**

* * *

She smelled divine. That was what had kept him from killing the female. Now, she was writhing beneath him. He had a hand between her milky thighs, testing her, pleased by her willingness. "L!" She whined, rocking her hips as she covered them with a blanket, muttering about a damed camera.

He growled, and swatted at her hand when she reached between her legs. She wasn't going to get in his way of taking what was his. He needed to taste that sweet fertile smell. She seemed to know what he was thinking and raised her arms above her head and let her legs fall apart. The flesh between her legs was wet and flushed, and all his. The organ between his legs began to bounce softly in time with his heartbeat.

She locked eyes with him, and the moan that came out of her mouth made him impossibly harder, "Oh, thank God. You're here with me."

He had no idea what she meant, and she smiled at him, touching his face with one tender hand, "I know, L. It's okay. Just glad you're healing. I was so afraid I'd lost you."

Her words meant almost nothing of him. He was unable to resist the temptation and lowered his head to lick a stripe over her collarbone. Her skin was like honey, smooth and sweet and white as sand. There were freckles dotting her flesh, trailing down her chest to the valley between her breasts and up her throat in small, widely spread dots to just below her ear. He was helpless but to kiss each one when she whimpered and arched under him. At the one beneath her ear, he found out just how sensitive she was and sucked, and licked, and loved on her there while his hand snuck between her folds.

She gasped as he again worked her bundle of nerves, clinging to the bloodied remains of his shirt as he stroked and circled, some part of him knowing that she needed release before he took what was his. He was impatient though, the blood surging through his body urging him on. He pulled his hand out of her, and he'd never wanted to lick it more than he did in that moment.

He needed to taste her directly from the source. He pulled her to the end of the cot and threw her legs over his shoulders, wasting no time in diving forward into her heat, his tongue laving long, full strokes against the seam of her flesh.

Her mouth was open wide in a silent scream as her hands flew down, fingers finding purchase in his hair. The sharp sting of her lithe fingers pulling on the strands was delicious, but paled in comparison to the taste on his tongue. He continued exploring her, relishing in every moan and whimper that left her lips. She rambled on and on, most of which he ignored, but he was paying complete attention as she gasped: "Please, I need you now…", her words trailed off, but...

He agreed.

He pulled the both of them up just far enough for her feet to find purchase, and positioned himself at her entrance. She kept her eyes on him as he rolled his hips forward, filling her in one complete movement. "Oh, my god," she wheezed arching against him, throwing her head back into the cot as she threw a hand over her own mouth, and a sharp tang of blood came from her.

His initial reaction was to pull back. He'd made her bleed. He...

"Don't you dare." She hissed, digging her fingernails into his arm.

Once she'd seemingly adjusted to him, she took her hand from her mouth and relaxed the hand clenched on his arm. Without hesitation, he thrust deep, and groaned loudly at her tightness.

She kissed him once, pulling back, whispering, "We need to stay quiet, L. Those sick bastards don't need to get anymore out of this than they already have."

He could do that, he wanted to keep her to himself anyway. She was his. Her head fell back and she clung to him as he thrust himself in and out of her heat as if his life depended on it, biting down on her shoulder to keep himself from crying out.

Her second release was beautiful, and when his followed seconds later the fascinating scent of the two of them combined was enough to make his head spin. She was his, this female, Maia, his frayed neurons supplied. Maia was his, fully, completely, and no one would take her from him.

Later, as they lay together under the blanket, she whispered to him as she stroked her fingers through his hair, "I thought I'd lost you. And then you weren't dead but you weren't really here either." Her hand stilled in his hair, and he felt a petulant urge to prod her into continuing. She laughed softly, resuming the calming strokes, "I couldn't read your mind. Thought you'd gone completely animal on me, but…maybe your brain needed a bit to get itself back together and let you run on instinct. Does that make sense?"

Not in the least he thought dryly.

She groaned softly at that, "You're such an ass." Using her grip in his hair she tipped his head up to kiss him gently, "I can almost feel all your neurons stitching themselves back together. I don't think that's the first time they've done it either. Damage to certain areas of the brain can result in loss of spoken language, but you spoke before. Maybe the new bullet wound allowed that part of your brain to heal more…sort of like breaking a bone that hasn't set right so it can be fixed properly."

Where the fuck did she get this psycho-babble?

Maia scowled at him, but grabbed him with both arms and hugged him tighter to her bare chest, so he really couldn't complain, "Psychology class, remember?" Oddly enough, he did. Memories had been flooding back since the middle of the sex they'd had.

He had given in. He realized numbly. Before, something had told him to hold back, to not let the animal urges control him, but he'd given in anyway. Now he remembered why. She was young. Too young. As his thoughts spiraled, Maia sunk her fingernails into his skull to get his attention, "Hey, no. I was completely willing." Her voice got softer, "Besides, Wild Man, the two of us…well, that's the least illegal thing going on in this hell hole."

She had a point.

He felt obliged to recreate the experience, but more gently the second time around. He'd been too rough the first time, and they were both lucky she hadn't been seriously injured. He was just glad he'd gotten her off first. He could really have hurt her otherwise. There was no more pillow talk after that, Maia began to fall asleep almost as soon as she had finished, and he wasn't completely certain she wasn't asleep before he had finished.

He didn't take offense, she'd had a rough day. He simply got up from the cot and cleaned the both of them as well as he could with the ruins of her shirt, flipped off the new camera with his middle claw, and settled back down next to her, cocooning her body with his. He'd almost lost her. For a split second he'd thought she was the one the bullet had nestled in and his whole world had ended even before he succumbed to the actual projectile.

Maia stirred slightly in her sleep, pulling his arm to nestle between her breasts so she could press her lips to his knuckles and mumble, so quietly a normal human couldn't possibly have heard, "love you".

L pressed a kiss into her red hair, breathing the mingled scent of them that lingered in the room. He remembered his first word, the one he had blurted in his animal state, but it wasn't the one he wished he'd said, the one he wanted to say. The one that would have made her smile at him.

He waited until her steady breathing indicated she was deeply asleep before painstakingly testing the word on his tongue, trying to remember how to make his mouth move properly. She played it off, but she was an intelligent one, his female. He didn't want to sound like an idiot.

"M-m-mine." Great, he'd recreated the original word he'd uttered his madness, but that wasn't it.

His second attempt was closer, but not good enough.

The third was just right, and he whispered into her hair, "Maia, mine."


	12. Chapter 12: Inner Demons

Chapter 12 here for you all! Lots of drama in this one, enjoy!

* * *

 **"They say don't let them in**  
 **Close your eyes and clear your thoughts again**  
 **But when I'm all alone, they show up on their own**  
 **'Cause inner demons fight their battles with fire**  
 **Inner demons don't play by the rules**  
 **They say "Just push them down, just fight them harder**  
 **Why would you give up on it so soon?"**

 **So angels, angels please just keep on fighting**  
 **Angels don't give up on me today**  
 **'Cause the demons they are there, they just keep biting**  
 **'Cause inner demons just won't go away**  
 **So angels please, hear my prayer**  
 **Life is pain, life's not fair**  
 **So angels please, please stay here**  
 **Take the pain, take the fear."**

 **(Inner Demons- Julia Brennan)**

* * *

L pushed her back onto their cot and dragged his nose down across her collarbone to her sternum, and settled on her stomach, taking deep breaths before growling deeply and surging up her body to nuzzle against her cheek.

Maia laughed, carding her fingers through his hair, "Okay, my Wild Man, what's gotten into you?" He projected an image of her face thrown back in ecstasy, and she scowled halfheartedly at him. She kissed him and muttered, "Perv."

He sunk his hand between her thighs, one long finger seeking out the wet heat there. Maia arched her back instantly, fully aware she was giving him exactly what he wanted, but she just didn't care. His hands were magic. Terrifying with the metal hiding just under his skin, capable of gutting her in an instant, but his fingers knew exactly where to stroke inside of her to have her gasping just as quickly. His tongue was even better. He'd been insatiable since that first night, and she had absolutely zero complaints. Especially once he figured out that he liked her being on top even more than she did. So after a few minutes of fingering, Maia was on top, her forearms braced on his solid chest. She leaned close to him, causing them both to moan at the change in angle, but she continued rocking her hips against his, "I think I know a way to get us out."

His eyes went from lustful to deadly in a second, and in his mind he ordered her to continue, punctuating the command with a particularly sharp snap of his hips. Maia kissed him, "No, we'll finish this, then we'll talk." It then apparently became his mission to get them both off as quickly as possible. She couldn't complain at all, even if she was probably going to be sore.

She explained her harebrained scheme to him as they lay side by side on the cot, her voice barely a whisper. "When they were in here before a bunch of them made eye contact with me. I've got a pretty good idea of the layout of this place, including the exits." She chuckled softly, "Really, it's just a matter of us getting out of this room."

With the door the way it was, that wasn't likely to happen he thought.

Maia clicked her tongue, "Hey, I can't have you being a Negative Nancy on me now. I've got a plan for that. I'm smarter than I look, you know." She nipped at his chin, "Don't answer that. But seriously, you're going to have to pretend to kill me." He really didn't like her plan, "Come on, a little blood and some acting on my part, no big deal. We just need to get the door open."

They fought about it, and when he raked his claws against the side of her head she threw herself to the floor and clutched her head, screaming like he'd sliced through to her brain instead of just grazing her. It was almost too easy. guards came into the room, but they were ready for them. When L had destroyed the first camera, Maia had managed to get a piece of wire about a foot and a half long. L went to slicing and dicing, and Maia went to using her wire as a garrote. She was slight, but her body weight was more than enough to cut off air long enough for her victim to drop. The second man she went after wasn't caught off guard like the first one was though, and got his gun to her head before she could do a damned thing about it. L roared, her captor realized what was going on, and he started screaming about shooting her.

L gave up.

Maia'd overestimated herself, but she couldn't blame him for his decision. She would have done the same for him.

* * *

"Maia, I can't believe you're so stupid." Sarah growled, stitching her head wound closed in the lab they'd dragged her into after scaring L into submission. Her hands were fixed in metal bindings, and she'd been gagged by medical gauze because she kept cursing at Sarah, "You've never done anything I've ever told you to. Thomas mentions something in passing, Louis or Elliot dare you, and you'd practically fall over yourself to comply." Sarah pressed into one of the wounds on her skull out of spite, the pain bringing tears to Maia's eyes, "You make me so mad." A lab tech handed a paper to Sarah, and she sighed in disgust as she read over it, tossing it onto the table beside her, "You stupid bitch."

Several people in lab coats came in and started arguing, but Maia's head was swimming. She couldn't concentrate on anything, much less read anyone's minds. Sarah cursed, "Damnit, Maia. Stay awake." She gestured to one of her lab techs, "Shoot her up with some adrenaline, she's lost a good bit of blood. Head wounds are such bleeders."

One of the men scoffed, "Why waste it? Just get rid of her. More fucking trouble than she's worth."

"Look at her blood test. There's so much to study here." Sarah urged the other scientists, brandishing the paper at him as her helper pushed the contents of a syringe into Maia's arm.

Her favorite guard approached from his position by the door, passing the paper along, "Could just kill the both of 'em right now. Be done." He growled, shoving his rifle into Maia's stomach.

Sarah shook her head, "No, DeWalt. We need them." They continued to argue, and Sarah finally clapped her hand on her hips, "Fine, let's go ask Stryker what he thinks about this development. Surely he won't completely ignore the geneticist who knows what the hell she's talking about. There is a reason Trask hired me."

Maia struggled while they were gone, but she was exhausted, and even with L's training sessions and the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she wasn't anywhere strong enough to break out of the bindings. She couldn't have even get the gag out of her mouth. She wished that when the door opened it was Sarah, but it wasn't. It was DeWalt.

"Just you and me you little mutant whore." He had a hand gun pointed at her, "Your pussy of a sister isn't here to stop me this time." He ripped the gag out of her mouth, "I want to hear you scream. I want him to hear you scream from down the hall. I want him to hear you beg for your sorry little life."

"I won't." Maia whispered, her heart was hammering in her chest, pressure building in her head.

He laughed, "You won't really have a choice, I'm gonna make you. Wouldn't be the first time I've sent a mutant back screaming to her maker. It'll be nice to get two of you."

"You're going to get yourself killed." She muttered, eyes glued to the gun pressed into her gut as he unknowingly projected images of her dead mangled body. She wished her mutation had stopped working with her blood loss, but it hadn't. This man wanted to gut her.

He laughed again, "I tell you, you've got brass ones for a slut who lets an animal fuck her."

She looked him in the eyes, feeling a surge of power not unlike the first time she caught eyes with someone, but this time it was so much stronger, fueled by rage, "He's more man than you could ever imagine to be. You're worthless scum, and you deserve to die for what you've done."

DeWalt's face went slack, and he nodded, stepping back as if in a daze, "I'm worthless scum, and I deserve to die for what I've done." Eyes still locked on hers, he stuck the muzzle of the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Maia couldn't contain her screams.

* * *

Let me know what you think!

-Jenn


	13. Chapter 13: I Walk The Line

And now for the first of this weekend's posts!

* * *

 **"As sure as night is dark and day is light**  
 **I keep you on my mind both day and night**  
 **And happiness I've known proves that it's right**  
 **Because you're mine, I walk the line**

 **You've got a way to keep me on your side**  
 **You give me cause for love that I can't hide**  
 **For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide**  
 **Because you're mine, I walk the line."**

 **(I Walk The Line- Johnny Cash)**

* * *

He could hear Maia's terrified screams, but couldn't get to her. Just like before, when the door to their cell creaked opened, Maia wasn't there, but he could follow her scent. He ran faster than he ever had in his life to get to her. She was back in their old cell, but he really didn't care. She looked far worse than she had the last time they'd been reunited like this. She looked up slowly when he entered, blinking like she couldn't see clearly, "L, I killed a man." He couldn't help but scoff and show her his claws as a reminder of his own homicidal tendencies.

Maia shook her head, "I did it with my mind, L. A guard. I told him to kill himself, and he did. Blew his own brains out right in front of me. I've never been able to do anything like that before." Nothing he could say could cover that. He instead pulled her into his arms and back down onto their tiny old cot, swearing to protect her from ever being in such a situation again. Their freedom wasn't worth destroying her beautiful soul.

It took a couple of weeks, but she eventually shook off the ghost of the man she'd killed, and, despite her sister's best efforts, the trauma hadn't been repeated. He hated seeing her come back shaken every time, but she was at least pleased that her range had improved. She said she was able to stay connected with him even when they weren't together, and she found solace in that.

The changes that occurred in her body during those weeks would have been imperceptible to anyone who didn't stare at her all the time like he did. Her hips, once hovering between girlish slenderness and womanly curves, were suddenly firmly in the womanly category, with a tiny rounding between her still too sharp hip bones. Her breasts, while still proportional to the rest of her slim body, had grown, the color of her nipples darkening just enough for him to notice. And every day, she smelled more and more like him. She was his. Completely. Or so boasted the animalistic pride in his head he didn't completely understand. Why the changes in Maia's form excited him so much, why they made him want to ram himself inside of her and at the same time, even more ready to kill to protect her than before, he didn't know. Something'd changed.

His pride turned to worry suddenly when, one morning, Maia jerked out of his arms and flung herself at their sorry excuse for a toilet, vomiting violently. Then she did the same the next day, the day after that, and the day after that. Each time, she ended up pale and weak for hours afterwards, laying in bed beside him, trembling. On the eighth morning, she finally spoke about it, her face paler than usual and drawn in fear, that damned scent covering up the one he loved as she whispered, "I don't know what's wrong with me." His worry turned to fear when she stopped eating. He thrust their plate under her nose, but she shook her head weakly, "No, I can't eat." He kept pressuring her until she vomited on them both, too exhausted to move so she didn't get sick on herself. He picked her up gently, and walked her into their shower, peeling her clothes off of her and rinsing the sick from her skin. She vomited once more before he was done, and seemed completely out of it. "I think I need help." She whispered, laying on their stripped cot as he sat on the floor next to her, stroking her hair out of her face. She fell asleep, and stayed asleep even as he paced in front of the doorway, growling, demanding the only way he could to get help without her in a position to be his voice. The only response to his anxiety was a new blanket and clothes being shoved through the slot that usually produced food.

Over the next few weeks, Maia rode a rollercoaster of sickness that he was helpless to stop. Eventually, however, she got better. She slept a lot, but when she was awake, she was better. Maia even felt up to trying to get him to talk, cajoling and teasing him. She was frowning at him, "Hey, my Wild Man, I think I'm okay. I feel alright. Honestly, you don't need to worry so much."

He took immense pleasure in the shocked look on her face when he growled, "Mine."

A few seconds later, she began laughing, "I sure as hell hope so." The laugh was hollow though, and she whispered, "I'm pregnant, L." She took a deep breath, a hand on her stomach, "Least I'm pretty sure that's what's wrong. It's the only damn thing that makes sense." She looked around, her blue eyes wide, "A baby, L. In this place. What the hell are we going to do? I mean we can't even get out of here without me fucking it up. We can't raise a kid here." She started panicking, and, again, all he could do was pull her to his chest.

The weeks and months that followed started a new pattern where Maia was pulled out by her sister every week for blood tests and examinations. Then they started wanting him alone:

"Weapon X, we can flood this room with a sedative and drag you out, but by the time you're unconscious, she'll be dead. Your choice." Had been the first and only warning he needed.

Sometimes they sent him on missions, sometimes they were just satisfied with torturing him. Sarah Kinney was the worst, and he'd already been given Maia's permission to kill the bitch should the opportunity present itself…after the baby was born. She'd just finished stabbing him a couple dozen times when she smiled pleasantly at him, "I've sent some men to go grab my dear sister. She'll rejoin you shortly, unless you'd like to stay. She might appreciate that."

He understood her advice when he'd been reunited with Maia. The bitch wanted to jab a needle into Maia's stomach. Neither one of them were on board with that plan, but, as usual, a gun pointed at Maia's head was usually a pretty good deterrent. She used a strange tool to help guide the needle through Maia's skin, which she said would keep her from hurting the baby, but that didn't help either of them relax. He'd barely kept from killing the woman when she'd used the needle to pull nearly clear fluid out of Maia. They didn't relax until they were back in their pathetic little cell, and L had lovingly mauled every inch of her, doing his best to erase every trace of every unwanted touch.

He then spent some time projecting the best sound in the world to her, their baby's heartbeat. He'd heard it for weeks, and she appreciated it greatly, talking to their daughter. They were both pretty certain it was a girl. He had noted that the baby smelled more like her than him, and she relied on her motherly instincts as well as what she'd gleaned from Sarah. Her powers had grown, and his mind had been able to heal itself much faster than it ever had before…or so he thought. He really had no point of reference. He didn't even know his own damn name.

Maia fell asleep in his arms, and he cradled the ever growing bulge between her hips. His whole world was right here, these two girls, his mate and his daughter. In his dreams, they were curled up on a bed in a farmhouse, and they were safe and happy. His nightmares weren't much worse than reality, but they were enough to make him grateful for every minute of peace he could muster here with Maia. As the months grew on, he enjoyed those quiet moments even more as their daughter grew and made her presence known by kicking and jabbing her mother. The bigger she grew, the stronger she got, the smaller Maia seemed, and faint bruises popped up on the skin of her stomach more and more frequently. He hated she was causing Maia pain, but they both took her activity as a sign of a healthy baby.

Those moments grew infinitely precious as they started pulling him out of his little world almost daily. Every time he came back bloody, he did his best not to touch Maia until after he'd cleaned up. It went against every fiber of his being to see blood on her, and he wasn't going to taint her anymore than he already had. She and their daughter had to get out of this place, and he would do whatever it took. Maia wasn't a weapon, she had a family who…mostly… loved her, and he would give them both up for her and their daughter to make it back to that family. To safety.

* * *

Things will move quickly after this one!

Reviews are always welcome!

-Jenn


	14. Chapter 14: In The Name Of Love

This chapter loops us back to Chapter 1, so hold tight!

* * *

 **"If I told you this was only gonna hurt**  
 **If I warned you that the fire's gonna burn**  
 **Would you walk in? Would you let me do it first?**  
 **Do it all in the name of love**  
 **Would you let me lead you even when you're blind?**  
 **In the darkness, in the middle of the night**  
 **In the silence, when there's no one by your side**  
 **Would you call in the name of love?"**

 **(In the Name of Love- Martin Garrix feat. Bebe Rexha)**

* * *

Maia lay on their cot alone, stroking her belly. Sarah said she was too skinny, but they didn't feed her enough for her to have put any weight on for her baby, even with L feeding her everything she could stand. Sarah and L both kept telling her that the baby was fine though, Sarah even seemed content with the baby's size as Maia neared the end of her pregnancy. L's favorite past time was to curl up next to Maia and hum to their daughter as he listened to her heartbeat. He was a giant sap, and Maia loved him with all her heart.

L had been gone for several days, and both she and the baby were at their wits end. Maia hissed, stretching slightly, but keeping her back as to the camera as possible. She was in labor, had been for about two hours, and their little girl was pissed. She'd been kicking the crap out of Maia off and on since L had been taken away, and Maia had the bruises on the right side of her stomach to prove it. L was going to be pissed. He got frustrated when their daughter made her grimace by moving around too much. Bruises were going to make one of the veins in his forehead pop. He was going to be a great dad though.

Maia burst into tears at that thought, for what had to have been the fifteenth time since he'd been gone. What the hell was she doing to do if he didn't come back before someone realized she was in labor? The contractions are far enough apart that she was pretty sure she had a while to got before they started making her scream her head off, or so her high school health class knowledge told her. She took a minute to day dream and dry her face a bit.

The door to their cell opened, and she shot up from the cot, glancing towards the camera. L crossed the room in a blur, and pinned her to the wall in one swift motion. Maia screamed a little, surprised by his sudden reappearance and rough treatment of her. He shoved her dress up to her hips and pulled his shorts down, entering her without too much preamble. She was overly sensitive, and knew she was making a fool of herself with all the noises she made as he thrust into her. She'd missed this. Since they'd realized she was pregnant he'd treated her like a porcelain doll. Maia threw her head back and pushed against his shoulders to get him to shift inside her a bit to keep pressure off her cervix. Damnit, she wanted to be able to enjoy this reunion. At last, L groaned, thrusting into her one last time and stilling there. She needed to distract him from the fact that she hadn't come so she could get him to focus. So she hit his shoulders repeatedly and yelled, "You son of a bitch!"

L responded by nuzzling into the side of her neck, and she slid her hands into his long hair. She kissed the side of his face, "I was so scared they'd hurt you. You okay?"

He growled, "Mine", before pulling off her and nipping the side of her neck, moving down her body. He nuzzled her stomach, and she smiled, answering his probing thoughts, "We're okay. Baby's just upset that Mommy got a little too anxious, kicked the crap out of me."

He growled, pissed like she'd been afraid he would be, and pulled her dress up, revealing her stomach, which was mottled with bruises on the right side. He put his hand over the bruises, a furious expression on his face. She put one of her hands over his and put the other on his face, making him look her in the face, "Hey, I'm fine, honest." She giggled shortly, "Better then fine after that greeting." He glared, but she ignored him, smoothing her dress down, "I swear these look worse then they are." He wasn't convinced.

Another contraction had her grabbing her stomach suddenly. Right, sex was a way to speed up labor, she remembered that now from her class, "Oh, have to say that greeting probably wasn't the best for my current situation." L was stunned, but followed her thought process. She laughed at his panicked thoughts, "Yeah, seems our little bug really didn't like you being gone." She was genuinely alarmed for the first time, "I don't suppose you know anything about childbirth, do you?" He just looked at her, horrified. Neither one of them wanted anyone else involved though.

Maia wanted to kick him. His dick had gotten her into this mess in the first place, and now his dick had made things worse. She would have been yelling at him if he hadn't been panicking so badly. Honestly, she hadn't expected him to be so terrified, but she should have. Every time her face scrunched up, he felt horrible, "Cut that shit out. We did this together, you don't get to blame yourself. Women have been having babies for thousands of years just fine. I can do this. We can do this." He wasn't convinced.

Then the door to the cell opened again, and the pair both turned to face it, clutching each other. Maia cursed at the sight of a herd of armed guards, "Oh, hell no, you're not taking him again."

But they weren't after L, they were after her. The guard who had replaced the one she'd killed yelled, "Get back, Weapon X, or we'll put a bullet in her brain. Eyes down, whore."

Maia fought beside L, relying on the months of training he'd given her, but she had to hold back for their daughter. In the end, another contraction made her stumble, and she was caught by two of the guards, who kept screaming, trying to get her out of the room to her sister, where they were imagining horrible things were in store for her and her baby. Maia bit one of the men holding her just as L got close. Maia screamed reflexively as gunfire rang out, and felt herself hit the floor, knocked off balance by something.

L roared, but she couldn't focus on him. She'd been shot. Blood welled from her chest, more of her own blood than she'd ever seen in her life, and when she coughed reflexively, blood bubbled out of her mouth. Maia found an entry wound just above her right breast, and stared at the blood on her hand in horror. Her whole body was suddenly freezing. Another contraction minimized the agony from the sucking burning of the gunshot wound enough for her to yell for L.

He was at her side in an instant. "Maia?"

Maia had never seen him so panicked, had never heard him say her name, but the joy that one uttered word would have brought her any other day was no where to be found. An eerie calm came over her. So this was how it ended. She'd been playing with death for so long now, it was easy to see what she had to do. "Take her." Consciousness was ebbing away already, and it was exorbitantly difficult to breathe. A collapsed lung, her brain supplied, one that was crushing her heart with it's own blood. Her words were gasped out, but she knew he understood every one of them, "Save her, L. You have to save her." She smiled up at him, "I won't live long enough for her to be born." She knew that, could feel her heart beating slower, could see her own blood on the floor around her, could tell that every strangled beat of her heart brought her closer to death. They still had hours of labor left, her water hadn't even broken, but she didn't have hours. Maia clutched L's hand, looking him in the eyes, as she moved his clawed hand to her stomach, channeling all her pain into her words, "I love you. But I don't matter, she does. Get her out."

He fought her, tears in his eyes as he muttered her name over and over again, but he couldn't save her, they both knew that. She said it one last time, staring into his eyes, "Get her out." Her field of vision slowly narrowed, and she couldn't speak anymore. Maia let her head fall back, and all she felt were the twin sensations of his lips on her cheek and a careful claw cutting her belly open. Her eyes closed, and she focused solely on how much she loved them both. She imagined, as she passed out of consciousness, that she heard his gruff voice tell her he loved her over the screams of a newborn. After that, nothing.


	15. Chapter 15: Gravedigger

I'm back! And here's Logan!

Some context: Maia was kidnapped in April of 1982, and Logan is freed from Stryker by Jean and Co. sometime in 1983 during X-men: Apocalypse. So all the events thus far have occurred during that time period. This chapter has us in 1994 with essentially the X-Men movie cast, post Logan bringing Rogue to the Mansion.

(Also, there's liberal use of the 'F' word by Logan, so if that bothers you...sorry...also, you probably shouldn't watch 'Logan' the movie, he really likes that word.)

* * *

"Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Ring around the rosy  
Pocket full of posy  
Ashes to ashes  
We all fall down."

(Gravedigger- Willie Nelson)

* * *

God damnit, he was tired of nightmares. Especially not when they didn't make a damned bit of sense. This one was extra special, and unfortunately recurring, his least favorite. He was fucking Jean from behind, a hand wrapped tightly in her hair. He'd woken up to a sticky mess in his bed, which was actually worse than when he clawed his furniture in his sleep. Clawed furniture he could forget about for a few days, at least until he got a spare minute to fix it, but messed bedding…yeah, leaving that was a nonstarter. So he found himself downstairs bright and early intent on shoving his sheets in the first empty washing machine he could find…for the sixth time in three weeks.

Of course his luck was so shitty that Scott caught him, and the little bastard had the nerve to laugh, "Good night? Didn't see anyone leaving, so that's an improvement. Charles really hates when your guests stay the night. It sets a bad example for the kids."

"Shut the fuck up." Logan growled, but the asshole couldn't keep his mouth closed.

"The drinking isn't much better, and Ororo hates your smok-" Logan cut him off with a right hook.

They brawled for a few minutes, and they had almost resorted to claws and laser eyes when Jean came on scene. "Hey, cut it out!"

"Jean!" Scott yelled, looking like a kid that had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

She stood between them, hands on on her hips, a perfect impersonation of a flustered mother, "What are you two thinking? The students are about to be up and about at any minute. They don't need to see you two fighting first thing in the morning!"

"One Eye started it." Logan said darkly, slamming the washing machine door shut.

Scott scoffed, "Come on, Jean, he threw the first punch. I was just giving him a hard time about his urgency to wash his sheets."

Logan resisted the urge to gut the other mutant. Jean wouldn't like that, she looked mistrustful as it was in the morning light. "Could've been I was trying to avoid your sorry ass."

Jean sighed, shooing Scott away, "What's going on, Logan?"

Logan started to walk away from her, "Can't a guy wash his damned laundry in peace?"

She wasn't giving up though, as stubborn as she was, he should have expected her following him into the hall, "Logan, I can tell something's up. Did you have another nightmare? Please, let me help you."

Logan wheeled around to stare at her, "I don't need your help, Jean. You think I wet the damn bed?" Her expression said it all, and managed to make him even madder, "For fucks sake, I did not wet the bed. It was a wet dream, Jean. I came in my sleep like a teenaged boy. Is that all?" She opened her mouth to say something, and he growled, "Fine, you want to know? Just look. Maybe then you'll leave me alone for a fucking hour."

It was cruel. But letting her see every moment of his dream was sure to scare the girl away. She stood blinking for a few minutes, and finally stared at him, "Who is she?"

Logan stared back at her, "You really need to spell it out for you?"

Jean shook her head, "If you think that was me, it's not, I don't have a birthmark on my shoulder, and that wasn't a dream. It was a memory."

Logan felt like she'd punched him, "A memory?"

She nodded, and frowned, "We should talk to the Professor."

He scoffed at her, "I'm not going to the Professor about some broad I may have screwed back in the day."

"I think you should." Jean whispered, "Logan, the room you were in in your dream…I'm pretty sure it's the same one we broke you out of at Alkali Lake. We thought you were alone."

Logan could smell a sudden jolt of fear from behind him, and turned around slowly, "What do you know, Hank?"

The blue haired man flinched. "I…uh…don't know anything."

Logan let his claws slide out of his skin, "Squeal, Furball."

Hank whimpered, and Logan was inches away from skinning him when the Professor intervened, "Logan, enough. I think it best we talk in my office. Jean, would you please have Scott cover Logan's classes." Logan followed him, trepidation in every fiber of him. Things had been much simpler when it had just been a hormonal surge. A memory. A memory of a girl he couldn't remember. A memory that Hank and Charles seemed to know something about. A memory they hadn't told him about.

Charles smelled like scarcely covered anxiety, but looked serene, his hands folded in front of him, "Logan, about eight or so years ago, Hank recovered some video from your time with Mr. Stryker. Less than five minutes and damaged, but the girl Jean saw in your memory… she's in it." He gestured to the screen behind his desk. "We didn't tell you then, and I apologize. I believed that something like this might be best left in the past."

So he watched himself burst into that damnable room, and roughly fuck a red haired woman. A teenager really. A pregnant teenager. Pregnant with his child. The video didn't tell him that, but he knew it, knew by the way he'd touched her stomach, they way he'd been gentle with her even while being rough. Her smile. Her blue eyes. Every strand of red hair. He didn't remember her, but he could tell by the way he'd been with her that he'd cared deeply for her.

She was in labor, he understood that, and he felt the same panic that video him was obviously feeling.

Then they weren't alone.

She was no match for them, and he wasn't able to save her. Her scream would haunt him forever.

When the video ended, Logan turned on Charles, "Who was she?"

Charles shook his head, "We don't know. There were no records recovered from the facility about her. You now know as much as we know."

"Which is shit." Logan snarled, "All we know is I fucked a girl, knocked her up, and she died."

Charles looked down at his hands, "And the child."

"And the child." Logan echoed, but the words felt wrong, like he knew something else. He ignored the feeling, and walked out of the room. The girl's face followed him, and he wondered how he'd ever thought she was Jean. Jean was beautiful and kind, but the girl, she appealed deep down to the animal that lived inside of him. She hadn't belonged to him, she'd belonged to the Wolverine, and now she was dead. Charles was right, he'd have been better off not knowing.

He didn't do emotions.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's still with me! Hopefully the next chapter is up tomorrow!

-Jenn


	16. Chapter 16: Heavy

The timeline in my head is a little bit of a mess (as everything is after Days of Future Past), but I've got this set somewhere around the end of the X2 movie without Jean dying.

This chapter is from the POV of Anna Paquin's Rouge, enjoy!

* * *

"I don't like my mind right now

Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary  
Wish that I could slow things down  
I wanna let go but there's comfort in the panic  
And I drive myself crazy  
Thinking everything's about me  
Yeah I drive myself crazy  
'Cause I can't escape the gravity

I'm holding on  
Why is everything so heavy?  
Holding on  
To so much more than I can carry  
I keep dragging around what's bringing me down  
If I just let go, I'd be set free  
Holding on  
Why is everything so heavy?"

(Heavy- Linking Park feat. Kiiara)

* * *

"Hey, Kitty, you seen Logan around? He wasn't in class today, it was Scott." Rogue asked her roommate when she got back from her after close quarters combat class shower.

Kitty shook her head, eyeing her fingernail polish critically, "He stormed out of the Professor's office pretty early this morning, that's the last I've seen of him."

Rogue frowned, rubbing her towel over her wet hair, "Stormed out? Like…normal Logan or…?"

"He was pissed about something, more so than usual I'd say. He almost ran me over." Kitty said, dragging her eyes from her fingernails, "What's up with you?"

Rogue shrugged, pulling on her clothes, "Ah don't really know."

Kitty eyed her skeptically, "You know if you want to talk, I'm here for you. That's part of why we're roommates, you know. You sure you're peachy?"

"That, and Ah'm less likely to kill you if we accidentally bump into each other." Rogue said dryly, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, something she'd only just become comfortable with, "Ah'm fine. Ah just…Ah think there's someone else who needs someone to talk to this morning."

Kitty's seriousness faded away, "Well, as long as you're thinking it, you and Logan did both miss breakfast. Might be a conversation starter if you want to try to get something out of him. We both know you're going to have a tough time though. He's harder to get to know than you are."

Rogue glared half heartedly at the older girl, "Thanks."

Kitty smiled brightly, picking up her books for her next class, "Any time!"

Rogue made her way downstairs to the kitchen, and, avoiding Storm, managed to make two sandwiches and get outside without being told by anyone to get to her class. All the powers thrumming in her head actually seemed to agree that finding Logan was important, and she found him by the lake. "Lunch?" He took the sandwich from her, but didn't say anything. He didn't eat it either, even when Rogue ate hers sitting crosslegged next to him. She let the silence drag as long as she could, but finally broke down, "Anything Ah can help ya with?"

He scoffed, "Hell, Marie, I wish." She let the silence drag again, knowing he wasn't going to tell her anything any faster or more if she badgered him. Her patience paid off, probably more than she'd wanted to, "There's a video. I wasn't alone with Stryker. There was a girl. Shit, couldn't have been any older than you. She was pregnant, now they're probably dead. Shit, I don't know. Head's all screwed up. I don't even know her name." He started to get up, "Hell, why am I dumping this shit on you? Get to class, kid."

Rogue put a gloved hand on his arm, "Hey, maybe Ah can help you unlock some of those memories." He stared down at her, "Ah've been practicing hypnosis stuff with Jean an' the Professor… Maybe I could help you, Couldn't hurt, right?"

He scoffed again, but the hard edges on his face smoothed out a bit, "You're not going to leave it until I let you, are you?" She shook her head, and he smiled wryly, "What the hell, I couldn't possibly want to stab myself anymore than I already do. You're a menace."

Rogue gave him one of her own rare smiles, "You're the only one who's not secretly afraid of me."

Something in his eyes got even sadder, but he just sat down in front of her, "Alright, kid, have at it. Just be aware, what I've seen…it's not pretty." He sighed heavily, "Not the worst you've seen, but…try to keep yourself out of my memories."

"Sure." She lied. He was too distracted to realize it, and hadn't payed enough attention to that aspect of her borrowed powers to realize she hadn't learned how to keep the memories of others from bleeding into her own head. She would see everything he saw.

He shook his head and started to stand once more, "Shit, I can't do this."

"Logan, wait!" Rogue had already taken off her glove, and forgot herself in the midst of her desire to help the one person she felt gave a shit about her. Her bare hand made contact with his forearm, and they were both pulled into his scrambled memories:

A beautiful red haired woman stood in front of him, hardly a few years older than Rogue, not really a woman at all, dressed in a grey tank top and sweat pants. The skin around her mouth was pulled back in a smile, her eyes tightening in the corners as she said in a sweet voice, "That's okay. You don't eat me, I'll keep you company. Deal?" She smiled even wider after a few seconds pause, as if amused by something he'd said, "It's called a smile, wild man. You're not going to eat me, so damned right I'm gonna smile."

The memory changed suddenly. He was now standing over the woman who was eerily pale on the ground surrounded by a puddle of blood. She was still beautiful, even covered in her own blood with half her torso shredded by a gunshot. She wasn't quite dead yet, but her pallor indicated she didn't have long. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she struggled to breathe, and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, "I love you. But I don't matter, she does. Get her out."

One of her hands pressed his down insistently as her head fell back and her blue eyes lost focus. He kissed her chilled cheek, and his claws bit into her skin. A minute later, he was holding a baby in his hands, and her mother's heart wasn't beating anymore as she stared sightlessly up at them, her face a peaceful mask Rogue had never seen on any of the dead she'd ever laid eyes on.

The memory cut out, and then he was running through snow, the baby girl in his arms, tucked tight against his chest to shield her naked body from the icy air. He hesitated just a moment at the edge of the lake, but changed course, only to find himself laying flat on his back with a bullet in his neck.

The baby wailed, still safe in his arms, but he couldn't move to quiet her. He was conscious, but he couldn't move a muscle. Severed spinal cord. A man stood over him, William Stryker, Rogue's own memories supplied, "So close, Logan, but you've failed." He pulled the baby from Logan's arms, and held her in his arms, looking her over critically, "Hello, X-23. Happy Birthday."

He extended one hand to his men, and a gun was placed in it. Baby still screaming in the crook of his other arm, he pointed the gun at Logan, "Adamantium bullets, Weapon X, and this time, no little red headed mutant whore is going to be there to bring you back. Thank you for this little one though, I've got some great plans for her." He pulled the safety on the handgun back.

Rogue managed to pull her hand away from Logan's arm just as the bullet exited the chamber. Logan stood frozen, staring at her as she stared back at him. She stumbled to her feet, shaking, grabbing for her glove on the ground, "L-Logan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!"

He turned away from her with a growl, "Go to class, Rogue."

Rogue stared at his back, wanting to help him, but she was pretty sure she'd just made things a whole lot worse. Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Logan." She did what came naturally, and ran. By the time she came back to the Mansion, it was dark. She was still so confused, feeling a grief that wasn't hers, and feeling guilt that was…mostly… hers. She'd wanted to make things better, but instead, she'd made them worse. The pain that had been in Logan's eyes… that was because of her. Maybe they'd all be better off without her around. She couldn't hurt any of the people she cared about if she wasn't there.

* * *

Did I say enjoy? Eep! Sorry for more feels! Hopefully this chapter ironed out some more timeline details. If there's anything too confusing, just shoot me a review!

-Jenn

(Just a note, I'm imagining Kitty as a year or so older than Rogue, having been with the X-Men for a much longer time, and also being more like her Evolution counterpart in personality.)


	17. Chapter 17: In My Arms

Hopefully this chapter straightens out more of where we're headed in respect to timelines! It's entirely Sarah centric, so it'll be interesting to see what you guys think!

* * *

"Story books are full of fairy tales  
Of kings and queens and the bluest skies  
My heart is torn just in knowing  
You'll someday see the truth from lies When the clouds will rage in  
Storms will race in  
But you will be safe in my arms  
Rains will pour down  
Waves will crash around  
But you will be safe in my arms." (In My Arms- Plumb)

* * *

Sarah Kinney was originally one of two, three minutes younger than her twin Thomas, born to Leslie and Ronald Kinney. When they were two years old, their parents had another baby, another boy, Elliot. Four years after that, the last Kinney boy was born, Louis. The next nine years seemed to drag on:

Thomas became obsessed with ships, and dreamed of joining the navy as soon as he could. Sarah was drawn to science, exploring the world around her in as much detail as possible. Elliot was perfectly content to work in the factory beside his father, even at a young age. Louis seemed destined for stardom.

When Louis was eight years old, their father quit his job out of the blue. It was part of an early mid-life crisis stemming from Ronald and Leslie each only being sixteen when they'd ended up pregnant with Sarah and Thomas. The fighting that year was worse than anything the four children had ever witnessed, and culminated in their mother going on a business trip to upstate New York without the permission or approval of her husband. When she returned, their relationship seemed radically changed, and they returned to the loving parents their children had been familiar for much of their childhoods.

Only Sarah thought the sudden change strange. Only Sarah thought about how odd her new sister was. Tiny. Red-headed. Beautiful. Unnatural.

Maia wasn't like her. Sarah knew that the moment she'd laid eyes on her baby sister. The older they got, the more obvious that became: "Sarah? Are you leaving?"

Sarah had looked up from her suitcase at her seven year old sister, "Yes."

Maia frowned, eyes cast to the floor, "Why do you have to go?

"I can't stay in this town anymore." Sarah had answered simply.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Maia whispered.

Sarah had turned to look at her, taking in the little girl with her pale blue dress and long red locks. She always looked so fucking perfect, even when she'd been rolling in the mud with one of their brothers. But Sarah hadn't told anyone she was planning on leaving their sleepy little town for good. "What makes you think that? I'm just going to New York for school."

Maia shrugged, "I don't know…"

Sarah had rolled her eyes and scoffed at the little girl, and she'd never stepped foot in that bedroom they'd shared again.

She'd gotten a doctorate, seen her sister at her graduation, thirteen and not at all a victim of teenaged awkwardness. Thomas had yelled at Sarah on that visit for how she treated their sister. Sarah then went four blissful years without laying eyes on her sister, had been recruited by William Stryker and Dr. Rice for their top secret program and been so damn proud of herself and her accomplishments.

And then when she did, when she finally saw her sister again, Sarah wished with all her heart that the time apart had continued forever. Maia was a mutant. A telepath. She'd been mocked by her coworkers for not noticing her own sister was a freak when that was what she studied for a living, but she'd been the one laughing when Stryker had put Sarah in charge of Maia after the stupid little girl had managed not to get herself killed by Weapon X.

The victory had been short lived once the guilt set in, and she's struggled every single day to keep her agony off her face. She'd resented her sister, but she had never in her wildest dreams wished this hell on the younger female. Her heart had been in her throat out of fear for her sister's safety, but Maia was special. Not only did Weapon X not kill her, he seemed to fall in love with her. Sarah had found out months into Maia's captivity that he'd gotten Maia pregnant, and it had taken every string she had to keep her coworkers and Dr. Rice from just killing Maia.

It hadn't mattered. In the end, she'd failed.

"Sorry for your loss." Dr. Rice muttered before leaving the room, leaving Sarah alone with Maia's corpse.

Sarah pushed Maia's red hair out of her face, and stared at her baby sister's empty blue eyes. "Oh, Maia." She did the only thing that felt right, and started the grim task of cleaning her sister up. Their parents didn't need to see their youngest daughter as she was, a hole in her chest and her belly sliced open. Sobbing, Sarah stitched her up, more gentle with her sister than she'd been in her whole life. When she'd finished, she kissed her sister's cold forehead and draped a clean hospital gown over her to replace the ruined dress she'd been in, "That's the best I can do. I'm so sorry, Maia. I failed you."

Guards had come in almost as soon as she'd finished, and dragged her away. The next day felt like she'd finally become a prisoner, the tides turning, at least until they arrived in Mexico. Stryker had received her in his borrowed office, "Dr. Kinney, please sit. I'm so sorry about how you were brought here, but we were in a hurry." He had a bundle in the crook of his arm when he finally turned around, and Sarah's heart clenched violently. The baby. Maia's baby was still alive. She hadn't even thought about it. Stryker continued talking, approaching her slowly, "You did a fabulous job with your sister, so I trust you'll do your next assignment just as well." He held the bundle out to her, placing it in her arms, "X-23, your niece."

"Oh." She replied, still stunned, forcing herself to look down at the creature who had been a large factor in her sister's death. She was beautiful. Maia's baby was beautiful. Pink and tiny, and completely reliant on Sarah, her mouth opening and closing pitifully as she searched for food. Sarah tucked her arms tighter around the baby. She may have failed Maia, but this little girl was a second chance. She'd failed her sister once, and she wouldn't do it again. This time, she wouldn't fail. Sarah would protect the baby for Maia.

Three years later, the baby wasn't quite a baby anymore, and her mutation expressed itself in a fantastically violent outburst that had left her covered in blood curled in Sarah's arms. "It's alright, love. I've got you." Sarah cleaned the little girl up, the one that was suddenly much less Maia's and much more Weapon X's, but it really didn't matter. She got the stubborn set of her chin from her mother, from Maia.

In bed that night, Sarah stroked her hand through the fine brown curls on her niece's head, "Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story? Your favorite one maybe? Since it was a hard day?" There was a nod of confirmation from the little girl, who snuggled in closer to her. In spite of their situation, Sarah smiled, "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful queen in a beautiful kingdom, but she was taken away from her castle when she was very young for an old nobleman feared her beauty and power being left to rule the kingdom. He had her imprisoned with a ferocious beast, hoping the beast would tear out her heart. The beast, however, was so struck by the queen's beauty that he began to care for her, falling more in love each day, though quite certain she did not return his affections due to his monstrous appearance. When he discovered that the beautiful queen loved him, he freed them both, revealing himself to be a handsome prince. The queen took the hidden prince back to her kingdom, they were married, and together they ruled for many years. During their rule, they were loved by all, but loved nothing more than the time they spent raising their own beloved beautiful princess."

"Im'ma princess." Her niece muttered in her sleep, and Sarah kissed her forehead, breathing in her sweet little girl scent, wishing Maia was there to see the girl she'd died to bring to life. Even Sarah had to admit that it almost seemed worth it, to die so someone you loved could live. If only that was how the story ended. The older her niece got, the less power Sarah had over Rice's interest in testing 'X-23', but she prayed daily that she didn't let Maia down again. She wouldn't survive that failure.

She didn't. She died before her niece turned six because she'd objected to coating her niece's tiny bones in adamantium. Her last thoughts were of how much she regretted all but the last five years of her life.

* * *

Back to Logan and Co. for the next chapter. Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys are awesome! Let me know what you thought about this one!  
-Jenn


	18. Chapter 18: Something's Broken

Some fluff, some angst, you know...the usual for this arc of chapters.

* * *

"Think something's broken  
Cause I'm just layin''round hopin'  
That maybe any moment  
I'll get on track  
But I think something's broken  
All locked up or frozen cause I can't go forward and I sure can't go back

Could be my ego could be my pride  
Could be my calm cool collective side  
Maybe my heart's comin' eye to eye  
With the truth."

(Something's Broken- Tim McGraw)

* * *

He had a daughter. Somewhere, he, Logan James Howlett, the Wolverine, had a daughter. He had never seen anything more perfect in his life. Stryker had her. Stryker had his daughter.

Rogue had shown him that in his own memories. As soon as Rogue had pulled away, he'd headed straight for Charles and the fur-ball, and relayed his newly rediscovered memories to them. They had both scrambled into action and left him alone with his thoughts just long enough for another memory to surface all on it's own:

He was standing in an empty bedroom looking at different colored patches of paint on the wall, a handmade wooden crib sitting in one corner, waiting on the rest of the room to come together…a nursery. Logan heard familiar footsteps behind him, could smell a familiar sweet scent, and just as pale arms came to wrap around his chest, he bolted awake in the memory.

The woman was laying on his chest, one hand splayed over his heart, the other on top of his as they rested on the bulge of her stomach. She smiled up at him, "I like the yellow. I don't think our little girl is going to be a pink lover."

The baby shifted, and the woman grimaced, "Shit, she hit my bladder again." She tapped his arm, "Help me up please sir, I need to pee. Preferably not on the both of us."

He helped her up, and they stood nose to nose in silence for a minute. She slid her hands up to his neck and pulled herself up for a kiss. She smiled broadly as she pulled back, "Thank you, my Wild Man." She drifted into the restroom, her white dress flowing around her knees as the memory ended.

She had carried his child, died giving birth to their baby, and he didn't even know her name. "You need to find them, Hank."

The fur-ball sighed, "I'm trying, but there's nothing to go on. No babies abandoned in Canada at that time, no…" He topped suddenly, "Wait…she wasn't a baby. Someone had to have reported her missing."

Hank started mumbling to himself, clicking on his computer, and Logan left him to it, refusing to sit on his hands. Short of scouring the entire world on foot, there really wasn't anything he could do. Hell, he couldn't even figure out how to smooth the whole incident with Rogue out. She'd triggered the memories, no matter what he'd said, he'd needed that, but he'd been horrible to her and she couldn't read his mind to know how guilty he felt.

Logan headed to her room, hoping to find her, but ran into Moira instead. The human smiled at him, "She's not in her room. I managed to convince her to go to the mall this morning with some of the others."

"I fucked up."

Moira hardly blinked at his crass confession, "Well, she'll forgive you." He raised an eyebrow at her, and she gestured towards a door, "Please, step into my office."

They ended up in what had once been a gym before they'd had to upgrade to a bigger space, Moira perching on an ancient weightlifting bench. He broke the silence, "What'd she say?"

Moira brushed her gray hair out of her face, "That she used her powers on you without your permission."

"I don't care about that."

Moira sighed, "She doesn't know that, Logan, and she's eating herself up out of guilt."

Logan eyed her critically. She may have once been a spy, but her scent told him she had more to say, even if her face didn't, "What else?"

"You have a daughter, Logan."

It was jarring, hearing someone else say it out loud so plainly. He shrugged it off, "Apparently."

Moira stared at him for a few more minutes, as if the problem was an obvious one, but she wasn't as patient as she used to be, "You can't be so dense that you haven't noticed how Rogue hangs on your every word? She's seen you as her father figure since you brought her here, but there's a possibility that you have a child out there…" She hesitated for a moment, "She's only ever been really sure about you, but you're suddenly not something she feels like she can rely on. She's adrift right now."

"Shit."

Moira nodded, "Yup, and you're the only one that can fix it."

"I should talk to her?" She nodded again, and he sighed, hands in his front pockets, "The mall?"

"They left about an hour ago." Moira confirmed, coming back to her feet, "And Logan, I've got some of my old contacts doing some research for me. We'll figure something out. For now, go take care of Rogue."

He left her and grabbed Scott's motorcycle, heading to the mall. She was easy to find, her scent familiar to him, and tears filled her dark eyes when he held out an arm to her. Rogue hesitated for just a second before she tucked herself into his side, muttering about how sorry she was, and he just held her. Logan took her from the others and they ate lunch mostly in silence, but he could tell she was calming down.

They were sitting out on the lawn, him smoking a cigar, her reading a well worn book from the library, when Scott came to find them. "You took my motorcycle again." Logan arched an eyebrow at him and he spluttered in frustration for a second, "Whatever, don't do it again. Hank said he's got something."

Logan stood slower than he wanted to, but ruffled Rogue's hair, "You stay, get some more sun, just be careful not to read all the words off the pages."

"Ah'll try not te." She responded wryly, returning to the book as he walked away.

Hank was practically shedding in excitement when Logan found him, screaming, "Logan!" Logan just stared at him, trying to appear uninterested for his own continued sanity, though if Hank didn't get to the point fast, he might strangle the other mutant. "Right… so I went looking for women that matched the description and apparent age of your… you know. I found her."

Charles rolled in to hear the news, and Logan mourned the lost opportunity to throttle Hank, especially when the mutant began babbling, "She was reported missing in Valleyview, Alberta by her mother in April nineteen eighty three, but…the Canadian government closed the case and reported her as dead in May. She'd just survived a mass vehicular homicide attempt by a fellow student, the detectives who investigated her disappearance decided that she'd probably had a head injury and wandered into the wilderness." He finally took a breath, "Reports by other students say she somehow knew what was about to happen. She had to have been a mutant, and Stryker caught wind of what happened and took her."

Logan clenched his fists and his teeth, every fiber in him wound tight. "What was her name?" Hank blinked, as if he didn't realized that he hadn't said. He pulled a photo up on his computer, and Logan took in every detail of the young redheaded woman, feeling like his chest was being sat upon by an elephant. It was a photo from her memorial service. Text below the picture read: '12-28-1966 to 4-9-1983' and below that 'Maia Grace Kinney, beloved daughter gone too soon.'.

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Notes: Next chapter takes us back to Canada! (Just a tiny note, in my head, Maia looks like actress Megan West.) Thanks again for your support, you guys are fabulous!  
-Jenn


	19. Chapter 19: Human Part 2

"I'm only human, I make mistakes  
I'm only human that's all it takes  
To put the blame on me  
Don't put the blame on me

'Cause I'm no prophet or messiah  
You should go looking somewhere higher."

(Human- Rag'n'Bone Man)

* * *

Hank didn't know what to do, he really didn't. The look on Logan's face when he'd seen the photo of the girl, of Maia, had been horrendous. The older mutant had looked ready to slit his own throat, and had stormed out before they could say anything else.

"He needs a minute." Charles said calmly.

"I think I need a minute." Hank gasped out, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, "What did we do? Ignoring this for so long, where did we think that was going to end up for us? Charles, he's got a kid out there, and we could have known about her years ago if we'd just told him…"

"He wasn't ready." Charles whispered softly, just a hint of regret on his face, "We can't blame ourselves, Hank. He might have lost his mind entirely if this information had been brought to his attention too early with what we knew. We interpreted the video incorrectly, and, had he not regained positive memories, he might have made the same error in judgment."

Hank was sure Charles was right, the Logan of a decade ago wouldn't have processed the news at all, he'd probably have killed them, but it didn't make Hank's roll in what had happened any less devastating. He'd agreed all those years ago to keep Maia's existence from Logan, but he'd gone a step further…he had stopped looking for information about her. He hadn't ever seen this day coming, and now he was woefully unprepared for the questions Logan and the others were asking.

Hank stared at the picture of the red headed girl, and wanted to apologize to her. Ten years, and he hadn't done a thing to find her or her daughter, a baby they'd assumed had died with her mother. She hadn't though, Logan had held her, had tried to escape with her and failed. Then Hank had failed to find her. He had nothing to go on, hadn't looked for her at all.

The police reports had been vague and had taken an obscene amount of time to decipher. Even on the original files he'd gotten the damned video off of, files he'd rescanned with his more modern computers, there was nothing but that video that made any mention of Maia. Someone had made her disappear, and they'd done a bang up job even he was envious of. Logan wouldn't appreciate that as an answer though.

Hank spent the next few hours digging through digitized files, and finally came to be the owner of the old address of one Maia Grace Kinney. Valleyview, Alberta wasn't that big, and he was able to look at property taxes to determine who still owned the property. Leslie Kinney. Maia's mother, who lived there alone, her husband having died in the late eighties. There was a phone number.

Charles interrupted his train of thought, "Hank, perhaps this is a conversation best had in person."

Hank nodded, "Yeah, that sounds like a better idea." He sat silently for a minute, "How did we get this so wrong?"

Charles looked down at his hands, "I'm afraid I'm not sure, Hank. Perhaps I underestimated the humanity inside Logan at that time. I wasn't sure he was capable of love and affection, it was easy to assume he'd forced her. I was wrong." He looked up at Hank, his expression mournful, "Will you forgive me for making you keep this secret?"

"I agreed to keep it, it's not your fault that I did." It hadn't been a hard decision to make, and he hadn't wanted to think about he dead girl any more than he'd had to stumbling upon that video. "So, who's going to Canada?"

Charles sighed heavily, "Logan and myself, obviously. It's possible Jean would like to come, and Scott would want to come with her."

"They're practically attached at the hip." Hank laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn't really work, but he did get a wry smile from Charles. "There's a strong emotional bond between those two. He's the only reason she escaped the clutches of Alkali Lake for a second time. That being so recent has made them leery of being apart."

Hank sighed, "Escaping from Stryker." He put his head on his desk, "There's no telling what hell that little girl has gone through." He sat up suddenly, "Charles, what if we drowned her?"

Charles went a shade paler than usual, "We can't think like that, Hank. We know Stryker had other hideouts. Also, I believe Logan would have been triggered by her presence."

"Kid isn't dead." Logan growled, and Hank almost pissed his pants. He hadn't even heard the man return.

"She isn't, Logan. I'm certain she must be very like you." Charles said magnanimously.

Logan growled something Hank was sure he didn't want to know, but followed it with, "You want us to go to Canada?" Charles nodded, and Logan growled again, "What the fuck can we learn there? We sunk Stryker's Alkali Base."

Charles gave him a vague answer, "Yes, but there's another reason to go to Canada, Logan."

"Leslie Kinney." Hank supplied, "Maia's mother."

Logan visibly recoiled, "Why would we go dredge up shit with that poor girl's mother?"

"Because she might give us some idea of why Stryker took Maia. She might know something that will help us find your daughter." Charles told him.

Logan shook his head, "No, there's no need for that. We don't need…"

"Logan, we're going to Canada." Charles said firmly.

"I am not going to be face to face with the mother of the girl I killed." Logan snapped.

Charles hardly looked phased, "You did not kill her, Logan, and her mother deserves someone to tell her the truth. She continually pressed police to look for Maia. I don't believe she ever bought the story they sold about her wandering into the forest with a fatal head injury."

Logan ground his teeth together, "This is shitty Charles, and you know it."

Charles leveled him with a dark stare, "Would you like the truth, Logan?"

"Of course!"

Charles nodded, "It is possible, Logan, that being near Maia's mother might trigger more memories."

Logan saw through him, and Hank wished he'd been anywhere else, "These memories hurt, Chuck. I don't see how more of them can help."

"You might know where your daughter is, Logan, and not remember. Isn't it worth trying?" Hank said, surmising what Charles was getting at.

Logan sighed, "Wheels, I sure as hell hope you're right. I'm not fucking up an old woman just because you want to mess around with my head some more. I won't do it."

* * *

Next chapter will give a boatload of answers you guys have been asking about. I'm excited! You guys rock!  
-Jenn


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